


Midnight Into Morning Coffee

by so_real



Series: I Like Me Better [1]
Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, M/M, New York City, No Plot/Plotless, Non-Linear Narrative, Probably ooc, Slice of Life, Vignette, idiots probably, im sorry coffee shop workers, me? projecting onto a character? never heard of, what do you call it when two characters are in love but dont like each other?, yet another unrealistic coffee shop au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-11-24 08:21:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20904557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/so_real/pseuds/so_real
Summary: "But things are good. The shop runs smoothly for the first time since they opened three years ago, and they're inaugurating their open mic evenings this week. Seonghwa's pastries have never been in more demand, and for the past month they've even had enough money to hire some extra help. So what if Hongjoong is half in love with his co-worker, who is also the co-owner of the shop, and who happens to be his roommate? He's a big boy, he can deal with it."Hongjoong and Seonghwa are the coowners of a coffee shop/flower shop in New York City. These are some sneak peeks at their life.





	Midnight Into Morning Coffee

**Author's Note:**

> Hey Rita how do you write 20k words without a plot? Idk either but it happened.
> 
> Hello! Welcome to whatever this is! It's my first atz work (but it will likely not be the last) so it might be a bit inaccurate lol. This was inspired by Lauv's I Like Me Better, i recommend giving it a listen, is ofc not beta read and English isn't my first language so there might be mistakes, I'm sorry. I've also never been to nyc nor anywhere near the states which means that all the knowledge i have of it comes from Brooklyn 99. Credit to my one and only Micka, as always for the support and the shop idea, one day that'll be us.
> 
> So please, grab your nachos and get ready for the cheese, hopefully it won't be too bad!

Hiring Yeosang and Yunho is, perhaps, the best decision they've ever made. 

Hongjoong hadn't realized the amount of work he did until he had another pair of hands to share it with. Yunho is heaven-sent, his seemingly never-ending energy and overall warm personality make him perfect for the job. To put it simply: people _ adore _him. Hongjoong is 70% certain that the increase in customers they're getting recently has a lot to do with his giant puppy of a best friend and very little to do with their new prices. 

He's not complaining, though. People love Yunho, and Yunho loves people, and business has never been better, so it's a win-win situation for everyone. 

As for Yeosang, Hongjoong doesn't have as much contact with him, other than the occasional pleasant small talk they make when he's on a break and goes to pester Seonghwa at the flower shop counter. When Seonghwa had said San knew of someone who fit the job description, he hadn't quite known what to think of, but Yeosang was definitely not what he'd expected.

Soft-spoken and generally shy, with an air of awkwardness around him, Yeosang is the farthest thing from customer service Hongjoong can think of. But Seonghwa is impossibly fond of him, and sometimes, Yeosang joins him in his teasing of Seonghwa, and Hongjoong can see the appeal. He knows he's a good kid, from the comments and praise Seonghwa is constantly giving Yeosang whenever Hongjoong asks him about his day, and Hongjoong kind of wishes they talked more. Maybe he'll propose a workplace bonding night some day. That would be nice.

He's thinking of this as he waits idly behind the counter on a Tuesday afternoon. It's quiet, the busy mid-day hours have just come and gone, there's only a few people he assumes are college students sitting quietly surrounded by papers on a table. He's just sent Yunho on a break to have something to eat when someone walks into the cafe. 

It's a boy around his age, dressed in a hoodie and ripped jeans. He has chunky, transparent glasses perched on his nose and his dark hair is messy from the wind outside. He looks around the shop confusedly for a few moments before he seems to come to the resolution of walking over to the counter. 

Hongjoong watches him approach, curious. He looks around once more before he reaches the counter, and he apparently doesn't find what he's looking for, because he looks at Hongjoong with the face of someone who knows they shouldn't be in a place, but are there anyway.

“Hi,” Hongjoong greets him, resting against the counter and trying not to smile too big. “How can I help you?”

The boy blinks once, as if he wasn't expecting Hongjoong to talk to him, but he smiles a bit when he says, sounding a bit sheepish, “I'm looking for someone.”

He has a soft, melodic voice that contrasts a bit with his sharp features, and Hongjoong wants to ask him if he sings because they could really use him for the open mic evenings.

“What kind of someone?” he asks instead.

The boy's smile widens, and he seems to light up when he thinks of this person he's looking for. “Uh, Yeosang? Yeosang Kang? He told me he worked here but I can't see him anywhere.”

And it's Hongjoong's turn to perk up because why, isn't this funny. The disposition of the shop makes it so that you have to walk to the counter to see where the café ends and the flower shop begins. It's only normal that if the boy in front of him is looking for Yeosang, he couldn't see him from the door. 

Given this, Hongjoong points a finger towards the big doorway that separates the two parts of the shop, through which he catches a glimpse of dark brown hair and a light brown apron. “He's over there,” he tells the boy, who follows the direction his finger is pointing in with his eyes. His face scrunches up in confusion before he apparently registers how things work here and he nods.

“Should I just go there or?” he asks Hongjoong, who is starting to find this really amusing for some reason.

“He should have a break in a few minutes,” he tells him, and the boy nods again. “If you want to wait here for a moment, I can tell him you came, uh…” he trails off, hoping the boy catches his cue and tells him his name.

The boy blinks at him twice this time, before realization dawns on him and he quickly replies, “Wooyoung.”

Hongjoong smiles warmly at him, rounding the counter. He points at the empty tables behind Wooyoung's back. “Okay, Wooyoung, just sit wherever, he should be out in no time.”

Wooyoung lets out a small _ okay _ and turns to sit as Hongjoong walks over to the other part of the shop. He is hit immediately with the fresh smell of plants and the rich scent of earth. His eyes instinctively search for Seonghwa's slim figure behind the counter and find him there, grooming some flowers. He lifts his head when he hears Hongjoong's footsteps and quirks an inquisitive eyebrow in his direction. Hongjoong simply shrugs and makes his way to Yeosang, who is crouching by a giant plant, almost hidden by its leaves.

“Yeosangie,” he calls softly. If he's learned one thing in the short time Yeosang has been here is that the kid is almost ridiculously easy to startle.

Yeosang still jumps a bit at the sound of Hongjoong's voice, and he looks up, blinking those big eyes of his. “Yes?”

Hongjoong smiles at him, shifting his weight from one foot to another. “There's someone outside who came to see you. He said his name is Wooyoung?”

Yeosang's eyes widen comically at that, and his ears turn slightly pink. “Shit,” he mutters, standing up. He is taller than Hongjoong but somehow manages to look smaller. “That's my idiot of a boyfriend.”

Hongjoong grins like he just hit the jackpot. He had imagined it was something along these lines, but it's always so much better to have his suspicions proved right. Yeosang sees his face and sighs, hunching his shoulders even more.

“I told him not to come during work hours but he's sort of a 'don't tell me what to do’ person,” Yeosang explains, and Hongjoong nods. “Do you mind if I go see him?”

“I would like nothing more,” Hongjoong replies, perhaps a bit too dramatically. He really finds this so amusing. “But maybe you should be asking Seonghwa over there,” he says, pointing over his shoulder to the counter. Yeosang nods quickly and hurries there.

Hongjoong watches as he exchanges a few words with Seonghwa, whose face is set in a small grin and who pushes Yeosang towards the doorway. Yeosang quickly scurries away, and Seonghwa meets Hongjoong's eyes, both of them cracking up at the same time. Hongjoong goes over to the counter and leans on it.

“Who'd have thought, our Yeosangie,” Hongjoong comments, making Seonghwa snort.

“Which one of them is it?” Seonghwa asks, stretching to try and see the café. Hongjoong doesn't understand the question.

“What?”

“Which one of his boyfriends is it? I only know San,” he explains, giving up on trying to eavesdrop. The table Wooyoung chose is apparently out of sight and earshot.

It takes Hongjoong a little longer than it should to understand what Seonghwa means. “Oh,” he says, dumbly. “Oh!” he repeats for good measure.

Seonghwa gives him an amused look, as if he enjoys Hongjoong's confusion thoroughly. “Yeah, _ oh _. Which one?”

“Wooyoung,” Hongjoong replies. “Wait, what do you mean San? San as in _ San _ ? As in _ your freaking best friend _San?”

Seonghwa’s amusement only grows, if Hongjoong is to judge by the smile on his face. God, Hongjoong hates him and his perfect mouth.

“Yeah,” Seonghwa replies nonchalantly.

“You mean to tell me,” Hongjoong starts, “that Yeosang is dating _ San _and I am only finding out now?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“You knew this!” he points a finger to Seonghwa’s smug face. “You knew this and didn't tell me!”

Seonghwa simply nods, clearly finding Hongjoong’s distress infinitely funny.

“_ Seonghwa, _” Hongjoong whines, draping himself over the counter. “I thought we were friends.”

Seonghwa lifts an eyebrow at him. “Oh, so now we are friends but when I want to cuddle we’re suddenly work associates?”

He's joking, of course, but Hongjoong feels a pang of guilt over the way his brain short-circuits and pushes Seonghwa away every time the older tries to initiate any type of skinship with him. It's not that he doesn't want it (God knows he wants nothing more), it's just that he panics.

“Semantics,” he says against his stretched arm, his shirt muffling his voice. “Plus you have San for cuddles. Why didn’t you tell me about him and Yeosang _ and _Wooyoung?”

“I thought you knew,” Seonghwa tells him, stretching over him to grab a pot from the other side of the counter. He looks at the leaves of the plant he'd been tending to with a small frown before he changes it from its pot to the one he grabbed. “Besides, it's not my place to tell.”

Hongjoong hums, following his motions with his eyes. There's something oddly cathartic about watching Seonghwa work, all his movements are gentle and controlled, and there's an air of peace all around him. Sometimes, when he’s feeling overwhelmed, Hongjoong just likes to sit around and watch him do his thing, letting that peacefulness seep into him and erase the anxiety.

He gives a final spray of water to the plant, smiling softly, and settles it on one of the shelves behind him before leaning on the counter and trying to see out the door again.

“Ah, damnit, I wanna see,” Seonghwa whines. Hongjoong thinks it's adorable when he does this.

“You can always come with me back there,” Hongjoong poses, lifting his head and pushing himself up. “Just try not to be too obvious.”

Seonghwa is nodding before he's even finished speaking, already taking off his gloves and moving from behind the counter. “Yeah, yeah let's do that.”

Hongjoong laughs and walks with him across the doorway. No new customers have walked in since Wooyoung’s entrance, and he and Yeosang are sitting in one of the tables by the front window, speaking quietly. Or well, Yeosang is speaking quietly, Wooyoung is audibly rambling about someone called Jongho and laughing at his own jokes in a high pitched tone. He has taken off his hoodie and Hongjoong notices the swirly black lines of ink behind his ear and on his forearm. Curiosity flares in him and he makes a mental note to ask Yeosang later. Wooyoung has one of Yeosang's hands in his and is playing with his fingers absentmindedly, and Hongjoong thinks they make a cute pair. He tries to picture San’s dimpled smile and funny remarks next to them and he can sort of see it.

Seonghwa must think the same thing, because there's a fond look in his face when Hongjoong glances up at him. He and Yeosang have gotten quite close in the month or so that the younger has been working here, Hongjoong knows this, but he hadn't realized just how close _ close _was until he sees the fondness in Seonghwa's eyes. It makes something shift in his chest, but in a good way.

And that's another thing: sometimes, Hongjoong wishes he had words for all of the things Seonghwa makes him feel. He's tired of not having to labels for the warmth that spreads through him when Seonghwa laughs at a joke of his, or for the way his heart contracts when he sees Seonghwa working on something he's passionate about, or the way his chest fills up when Seonghwa wordlessly comes to his room to keep him company when Hongjoong is in a mood, lying with him in his bed and letting Hongjoong tell him his frustrations. He has no words for all of this. He wants to call it love, but he's scared. Love sounds too dangerous, too damning. Hongjoong sure as hell feels like he's already in too deep, though. 

He's too busy thinking of this to realize he has been staring at Seonghwa’s face for what is probably too long. He doesn't break out of his reverie until Seonghwa turns his eyes to him, lifting an eyebrow in question again. He does that a lot, Hongjoong has noticed, speaking without words. He'll lift an eyebrow, or scrunch his nose, or twist his mouth, and it's just as eloquent as if he'd spoken out loud. Hongjoong finds it endearing to no end.

“What?” Seonghwa mutters, clearly trying not to draw the pair's attention to them. “Is there something on my face again?”

Hongjoong considers replying with 'beauty' for a split second, but decides against it. He shakes his head, looking away, and starts marching towards his counter, trying not to _ think _about not blushing. Seonghwa follows him quietly, smiling smugly, and there are times, like right now, when Hongjoong swears he knows. That Seonghwa is fully aware of the things he does to Hongjoong, and he’s just having the time of his life torturing him.

And he would, the bastard, he so would. That’s perhaps one of the things Hongjoong’s more scared of: the thought of Seonghwa knowing about his feelings and playing with him like a cat plays with its food. But then again, Seonghwa is also the nicest person Hongjoong has ever met. He’d never play with Hongjoong’s heart just for fun like that. As much as he likes to prod and tease and drive Hongjoong up the wall, there’s always that characteristic gentleness to it. They’ve never had any major fight in the years they’ve known each other, all their conflicts are settled rationally. He’s kind to strangers and good with kids and Hongjoong was ready to fall at his feet within a month of knowing him. 

And maybe that’s why he hesitates. Because he’s never fallen for anyone this fast. Because if there’s one thing Hongjoong’s bad at, it’s feelings. He’s not bad at feeling them, no, he is, in fact, exceedingly good at that. What he sucks at, and does so monumentally, is expressing them. It’s not that he doesn’t know how (let’s be real, he’s seen enough movies and watched enough dramas, he _ knows _ how), it’s that when the time comes, when he finds himself in front of Seonghwa and he thinks _ this is it, the moment is perfect _, he cowers. He convinces himself that the time isn’t right, that he is guarding his feelings from a possible rejection, that he’s too busy to even try to have any sort of love life… The list goes on and on.

And Seonghwa… well, Seonghwa is Seonghwa. He’s so hard for Hongjoong to read, hiding behind mixed signals and beautiful smiles. In all the years Hongjoong has known him, he’s never once thought _ oh, I know exactly what’s going on inside his head right now _, except maybe when Seonghwa is straight out judging him. Yes, that disappointed look is hard to mistake for anything else. 

“Have you eaten yet?” it comes as a gentle whisper, but it manages to snap Hongjoong back to reality.

“What?” he says dumbly. He’s doing that a lot today. Seonghwa rolls his eyes at him, but there’s an unmistakable fondness behind it that settles warmly in Hongjoong's chest.

“It's nearly 3pm, have you eaten anything all day?” Seonghwa repeats, and Hongjoong feels a bit like a kid being scolded because he hasn't, and they both know it. 

“I was going to eat later,” he replies, defensively. Seonghwa sighs.

“When? You don't give yourself enough breaks for that, you workaholic idiot,” he says, poking Hongjoong's side, making him squirm.

Hongjoong tries not to squeal as he bats his hand away. “Later! When I get home!” he tries.

Seonghwa shakes his head, his eyebrows furrowing. “You can't live on chocolate bars, we've been over that.”

“I can try,” he replies petulantly, pouting at him. It works, sometimes, but not today, apparently.

“Not while you're living under my roof, you can't,” Seonghwa tells him, and Hongjoong wants to point out that it's technically not Seonghwa's roof because they both pay rent and the lease is under both their names, but Yunho chooses that exact moment to walk into the scene.

“What is he being unreasonable about this time?” Hongjoong's (maybe not so much) best friend asks, leaning his elbows against the counter and propping his chin on his hands.

“Eating,” Seonghwa answers without missing a beat, sending Hongjoong a harsh look. And okay, Seonghwa might be the gentlest person on Earth, but he also manages to be terrifying sometimes. Hongjoong sends him a look back just to show he can’t be scared into being a functional human being. 

“Dude, have you not eaten all day again?” Yunho pipes in his ear. Hongjoong turns to him and his gaze softens. How can he glare at Yunho when he’s staring at him with those puppy eyes of his.

“I ate this morning,” he says, a peace offering.

“A granola bar on your way here doesn’t count as food,” Seonghwa cuts him, sternly, and Yunho’s pout deepens. 

"Joong," he starts, and Hongjoong knows he's being manipulated, can tell it from a thousand miles away, but he'll give in because he's physically unable to say no to Yunho when he pouts like that. "You need to eat."

"I'm fine, I've survived until now, haven't I?" he points to himself, trying to talk his way out of the situation. If he's to judge by the look on Yunho's face, he's not buying it.

"Maybe that's why you're so short," Seonghwa says, and Hongjoong can hear the smile in his voice. "You don't eat enough to grow."

And Hongjoong can take being teased about mostly everything, but he draws the line at his height. "You're dead," he tells him in a low tone, and launches forward to tickle Seonghwa into oblivion, crush or whatever be damned, as Yunho lets out a guffaw of laughter.

"Okay, okay! I take it back!" Seonghwa laughs trying to push Hongjoong's hands away. He gives up after a few seconds, but remains glaring at Seonghwa, who smiles crookedly down at him.

"I'm not short," he grumbles. He's a perfectly average height. It's not his fault that all his friends are ridiculously tall. 

"You sure aren't," Yunho concedes, in an attempt to placate, but it's pretty useless when he exchanges a look with Seonghwa and they both pretend they're not laughing. 

"But you do need to eat," Seonghwa pokes him again, and Hongjoong pouts because he feels his resolution start to crumble.

"Why don't you two take a break?" Yunho proposes, gaining both their attentions. He smiles brightly at them, clearly pleased with his own idea. "Yeosang and I can take care of everything for a while, and this way you make sure he actually eats something," he directs the last statement at Seonghwa, tilting his head in Hongjoong's direction. Hongjoong is about to object about decisions being made in his behalf, but Seonghwa doesn't let him.

"That's actually a really good idea," he nods, and turns to Hongjoong with a look that says _ you can't get away now _, before making a show out of pushing him from behind the counter. "Bye Yun, see you in a bit."

Yunho throws his head back in laughter and waves a hand at them as Seonghwa pushes a reluctant Hongjoong to the door. He stops for a moment when they reach the table Yeosang and Wooyoung are sitting at, the former giving them a look that clearly says 'please stop embarrassing me'. Seonghwa either doesn't see it or ignores it, because he keeps his hands on Hongjoong's shoulders as he says.

"Yeosang-ah, we're taking an emergency break, please take care of everything, we should be here in half an hour tops."

Yeosang's eyebrows shoot up in curiosity but he doesn't say anything and nods instead. Wooyoung in front of him is looking at them with a half-confused, half-amused expression that makes Hongjoong want to dissolve out of sheer embarrassment. 

"Sure thing," is all Yeosang says, his face still full of curiosity. Hongjoong guesses he's decided he'll ask Seonghwa later. Good boy. Let Hongjoong avoid any further humiliation. Seonghwa smiles warmly at Yeosang and nods once before he resumes his ridiculous ministrations. 

"I can walk by myself, you know?" Hongjoong tries to break free from the grasp Seonghwa has on his shoulders, which only makes him hold him tighter.

"Oh, I'm well aware, I just don't trust you to not run away as soon as you get the chance," Seonghwa replies easily, amusement coloring his voice as he pushes Hongjoong out the door. Hongjoong rolls his eyes but resigns to his fate, letting Seonghwa usher him across the street and into the deli store in the corner. "Pick something actually nutritious. My treat," he says, after saying hi to the clerk and moving them to the sandwiches section.

And usually Hongjoong never says no to free food, but he's tempted to refuse just to spite Seonghwa. A pointed, knowing look of _ don't you dare _ from the other stops him, though. Hongjoong sometimes swears he can read minds. So he picks the first thing he sees that actually looks edible and bitches during the exact four minutes it takes Seonghwa to pick his.

"I'm gonna hide your laptop," Seonghwa threatens as he finally makes a choice and picks a chicken wrap with a small victory sound. 

Hongjoong gasps jokingly. "You wouldn't dare!" He bumps him with his shoulder on their way to the counter, delighted when Seonghwa bumps back before reaching for his wallet.

"Watch me," he fake-whispers before turning to the bored clerk with a blinding smile. Hongjoong lets out a disbelieving laugh as he watches him pay.

They end up in a little deserted park and sit side by side on a bench, looking at the empty basketball court. None of them says anything for a while, both eating in a silence that has never been uncomfortable. Hongjoong realizes after his third bite that he was, in fact, hungry, but he'd rather die than admit it out loud and give Seonghwa the satisfaction. 

"How is that track going, by the way?" Seonghwa asks after a while, and it takes Hongjoong a second to connect this to their previous conversation.

He lets out a huff when he does, the sight of his laptop laying unopened for days on top of his desk a constant reminder of his uselessness. "It's not going," he mumbles, taking another bite. "Nothing sounds right and the base is boring."

Seonghwa makes a little noise of understanding at the back of his throat. "Do you want feedback on this one?"

Hongjoong considers it for a moment. He's never had any trouble with letting Seonghwa listen to his unfinished compositions, and his insight is usually helpful. He guesses a second ear would be good for his creative process.

"Yeah, I guess," he replies, leaning back on the bench. He catches Seonghwa's nod out of the corner of his eye.

"Let me listen to it when we get home," and it used to fuck with Hongjoong's brain so much when he called the apartment _ home _, but now it only makes something warm spark in his chest.

"Will you sing for this one?" he lets slip before he can stop himself. He feels Seonghwa tense beside him and he kicks himself mentally.

Seonghwa takes a deep breath as if steeling himself. "I've told you I-"

"Yeah, yeah, you don't sing anymore," Hongjoong cuts him. They've had this argument countless times, not even Hongjoong himself is sure of why he keeps pressing. "But you should. I hear you sometimes, you know? You still got it."

And he's not saying it to be nice, or because he has a crush the size of a watermelon on him, no, Hongjoong objectively thinks Seonghwa has a beautiful voice, has always thought it. Even before he started developing feelings, he's always been kind of in awe at his voice. And then, one day, Seonghwa decided he didn't want to sing anymore. And Hongjoong respects that decision, he does, even if it felt like a punch to the gut when he realized all the songs he had inadvertently composed with him in mind would forever be lacking. And so, every once in a while, he brings up the topic again. Because even if Seonghwa doesn't want to sing professionally, he still sings his fair share at home. Whether it is distractedly while he works on something, or along to the playlists Hongjoong makes him as he cooks, or in the shower when he thinks Hongjoong can't hear him, he is constantly singing, making Hongjoong go slightly out of his mind.

"I… I don't know," Seonghwa says, in a small voice, and Hongjoong turns his head just in time to catch a faint blush on his cheeks. _ Oh _ , Hongjoong thinks, _ I've made him uncomfortable. _

"Think about it," Hongjoong says softly, not wanting to make things worse. Seonghwa hums in agreement and neither of them say anything for a while. It's not an uncomfortable one but the air is heavy with unease.

"Can we stop by the art store on our way home?" Hongjoong breaks the silence, eager to right his wrong. "I need a new golden marker."

Seonghwa smiles slightly at that, and Hongjoong realizes he's been staring. Again. "Sure," he concedes. Hongjoong smiles to himself and lets his head fall against Seonghwa's shoulder for a moment.

"Thankies," he mutters, drawing a small chuckle from the older. It feels nice, being able to make him laugh. 

"You're very welcome."

* * *

They met, like most people their age do (except for Yeosang and Wooyoung, but they are outliers and should not be taken into account), in college.

Hongjoong was too stressed for a freshman, but he kind of had it coming with the amount of courses he'd naively taken that year. As it turned out, _ anything music related _ ended up being a little bit more than he could chew, and he ended up dropping half of them by the time the second semester had started. Luckily, by then he had already met Seonghwa, who had a knack for organizing lives, whether it be his own, or Hongjoong's messy excuse for one.

To say meeting Seonghwa was a life saver is an understatement. Hongjoong really can't picture himself having made it this far without him. He thanks whichever higher entity made him miss his alarm and walk thirteen minutes late into his music theory class that blessed Tuesday seven years ago. He had hurriedly sat in the first empty seat he had seen, right in the front row, praying for the professor to just ignore him, and tried to calm his rushing heart with deep breaths. 

"He hasn't said anything relevant yet," came in a hushed voice from his right. Hongjoong turned his head to look at the owner of the voice and found himself staring at the prettiest human being he had ever seen.

("I met an angel today," he would say to Yunho later that day as the younger beat his ass at video games.

"I'm sure you're exaggerating, you haven't slept all week," Yunho would reply, not even pretending to be happy that he'd killed Hongjoong's tiny character for the hundredth time.

"Shut up, don't you have homework to do?")

"What?" Hongjoong asked, his brain short-circuiting because _ holy fuck _. Pretty Boy smiled softly, looking a bit awkward, and Hongjoong's entire world shifted.

"He only started a few minutes ago, you're good," Pretty Boy said, and Hongjoong noticed a slight accent to his words that sounded a lot like home. 

"Oh! Uh- thank you," he stammered uselessly. Pretty Boy smiled again, boxy and cute, and Hongjoong was sure he was having a heart attack. 

He forced himself to look away from Pretty Boy's lips and opened his bag to look for something to take notes with, only to find it empty of anything that weren't clothes markers, scissors and tape. "_ Fuck _," he muttered under his breath, realizing that, in his hurry, he had taken the wrong backpack. He wrung a hair through his already messy hair and let out a desperate chuckle, trying to find the humor in the situation.

"Is everything okay?" Pretty Boy asked, and Hongjoong didn’t even dare look in his direction, too afraid to see the ‘_ holy shit, this dude is crazy _’ look he was surely giving him.

“Yeah,” he breathed, running his hand through his hair once more. “I’m just a massive idiot who won’t be taking any notes today.”

And Pretty Boy _ laughed _ at that. He heard and witnessed Hongjoong’s misery and had the audacity to laugh the cutest giggle Hongjoong had ever heard. Hongjoong wasn’t sure if he was offended or endeared. He risked a glance towards his right and found Pretty Boy hiding a smile behind a closed fist. His eyes were scrunched and his cheeks puffed up and by God was he gorgeous. Hongjoong almost forgot the situation at hand because how could he focus when the literal most ethereal human being ever was there, sitting not two meters away from him and practically _ glowing _?

“I’m glad at least someone is enjoying this,” he commented, but he couldn’t help but smile as he said it. Definitely not offended.

"Sorry," Pretty Boy said, still smiling a bit. Hongjoong was starting to develop a dependency on that smile. "You're funny. Do you want to borrow something?"

And Hongjoong was in the presence of an angel. There was no other explanation for it. Heaven had looked down on him that morning and said _ oh, that one dumbass in particular, give him the prettiest angel you can find, he's gonna need him _ and had put this boy in his way. 

_ He's expecting a reply _, his last brain cell supplied, when he'd been staring at Pretty Boy for what was possibly too long to be considered socially acceptable. He blinked a couple of times and nodded, suddenly shy.

"If it's not a bother," he muttered, and Pretty Boy was already handing him a pen and some paper before he had even finished.

"Thank me later," he whispered with yet another disarming smile, and those were the last words he spoke until the end of the lecture. 

Hongjoong examined the pen for a moment. It was way nicer than any of the pens he owned, colored in pastel tones. A quick glance at Pretty Boy's notes confirmed that all his stationery looked uncannily similar to the nice Korean stationery his mom used to get him as a child. A little light bulb lit up inside Hongjoong's head as the professor started listing the materials the course covered.

Needless to say, they were the longest forty minutes of Hongjoong's life. He did actually manage to take some notes that he hoped he would be able to decipher later if need be, but mostly just spent them stealing glances to his right. Fuck was he really that gorgeous from every angle? Something had to give, he thought, there was no way someone was this perfect. _ Maybe he's an asshole _ , but then again he had lent him his stuff without Hongjoong even having to ask. Gorgeous, nice and (most likely) Korean? He could practically hear his mom going _ he's a catch _ in his head. He guessed he would have to get to know him better. What a pity, really.

"Okay guys, I'll see you on Thursday, don't forget to look into the evaluation criteria and bring any questions you might have," the professor dismissed them with a smile and a little clap.

Hongjoong finished writing _ LOOK @ EV. CRITERIA!!!! _on top of his notes and turned to his right to give Pretty Boy his pen back and maybe thank him, and maybe ask him how he liked his eggs in the morning, only to find him already staring at him. There was this air around him, maybe it was the way he gently laid his elbows on the table and rested his cheek against his hands, or his simple, smart cut clothes, but Hongjoong got an aura of stability that immediately comforted him.

"So, uh…" he started, eloquently. "Thank you."

Pretty Boy's lips twitched, as if he was trying not to smile, and gracefully accepted the pen Hongjoong was handing back to him. "You're welcome. May I get a name in return?"

And if Hongjoong didn't know better, he'd say Pretty Boy had just hit on him. _ Idiot _ , his last brain cell came to his rescue again, _ he just asked for your name. He probably doesn't know anyone here and wants to make friends. _ Oh, yeah, that made sense. The problem was that Hongjoong didn't like giving his name to people. Most people wouldn't even bother to pronounce it right, and God forbid he let anyone know his stupid English name, so he just ended up with his name butchered a hundred different ways. Still, he owed Pretty Boy as much.

"Hongjoong," he said with a sigh, shy when Pretty Boy's eyes lit up a bit.

"Hongjoong," he repeated, and it was the clearest way anyone aside from his parents had pronounced his name. "I'm Seonghwa."

"Hi," Hongjoong said, stupidly, because he had apparently left his brain home that day.

"Hello," Seonghwa replied, and God was Hongjoong glad to have a name and to be able to stop referring to him as Pretty Boy in his head. They stared at each other for a second, until the sound of their classmates leaving the hall made Seonghwa start. "Do you have anything to do now?"

Hongjoong mentally checked his ridiculously packed schedule. "Actually," he said, a bit more triumphally than he should have, probably "I have a free period now, do you want to go grab some coffee or something?"

Seonghwa nodded, that wonderful smile on his lips again, and Hongjoong felt his chest fill up with warmth "I'd love that. I'm kinda new in town and I don't know many people here," a slight pink blush colored his cheeks when he said that. _ Cute. _

"Well, in that case, let me show you around," Hongjoong said genially, as if he knew the university any better. But the smile Seonghwa gave him was worth getting lost three times trying to find the faculty's cafe. 

It was all good, though. They talked for almost an hour, and Hongjoong could feel that reassuring aura the entire time. He learned the basics about Seonghwa; his last name (Park), his hometown (Jinju, which he made a mental note to look up later), where he was staying (uni dorms, the building closer to the dean's office), what he wanted to study (not sure yet, but probably something related to music and singing), and answered all the similar questions Seonghwa fired his way.

He was so polite_ , _ so _ gentle _. It was hard for Hongjoong, who had grown up surrounded by the rowdy boys at school, to wrap his head around the concept of Park Seonghwa's gentleness. It was a refreshing change, though, something he could see himself getting used to.

Sadly, he had to leave the cafe way too soon for his liking, having to run to his next class (a great part of his first year at uni was spent running from lecture hall to lecture hall), but his phone felt heavy with the weight of Seonghwa's number in it, and his heart light with the promise of seeing him again in two days.

* * *

"Kim Hongjoong, come here right this instant!"

Hongjoong's first thought is _ ah, shit, I'm in trouble _ as he tenses where he is sitting on the couch after taking a shower _ . _Seonghwa only ever speaks Korean in three very particular cases: one, when there's someone around who shouldn't be understanding what he's saying; two, when he's really drunk and whispering sweet nothings into Hongjoong's skin; and three, when Hongjoong has done something really wrong and English isn't enough to convene the severity of his disappointment. And it's clearly none of the two first cases, so Hongjoong can only come to the conclusion that he's fucked up. 

He quickly does a mental run through the last couple of days and can't find anything he might have done that could excuse the language switch. Fuck, that means it's something that's been building up for a while. Those are the worst, because Hongjoong can never remember what originated them, which only makes Seonghwa get more annoyed.

"Where exactly is _ here _?" he still asks, trying to not sound afraid. 

"Bathroom," comes the curt reply.

"Right-o."

Hongjoong honestly doesn't know what to expect as he walks over to their tiny bathroom. It definitely isn't to see the floor covered in newspapers and a chair sitting in front of the sink.

"Are you dying your hair?" he asks dumbly. A quick glance in Seonghwa's direction lets him know his hair is still as black as it's been for the past year or so, and there's no dye materials in sight. In retrospect, that was a stupid question, but who can blame him when his boyfriend tends to have impulsive urges and bleaches all his hair at random. (He hasn't done that in a while, but Hongjoong still remembers the trouble sleeping he had the first time it happened, for very obvious reasons).

Seonghwa's lips twitch, the way they do when he's trying not to smile, and Hongjoong suddenly has the feeling he's let himself be led into a trap. He narrows his eyes suspiciously at him as he stays in the doorway, not daring to walk further into whatever this might be.

"You're not really mad at me, are you?" Hongjoong asks slowly, gasping in betrayal as Seonghwa cracks an apologetic grin. "I knew it! You bastard, you scared the shit out of me!"

"I'm sorry, I wanted you to come fast," Seonghwa says as he steps towards him, and Hongjoong bats his hands away when he tries to reach for him. It's useless, though, and soon he's reluctantly caged in his arms, his cheek pressed to Seonghwa's chest.

"That's not what you said last night," he mutters against Seonghwa's shirt, because he's not mad despite his act, and because he can never let a sex joke pass him by.

Seonghwa snorts and pinches his side, making him yelp. "Don't be so childish."

"Then stop being so mean," Hongjoong whines, but he wraps his arms around Seonghwa's thin waist and rubs his cheek against the soft fabric of his shirt. Seonghwa holds him a bit tighter, running his hands down his arms.

"I'm sorry."

"You really aren't," Hongjoong retorts, without heat, because he knows his boyfriend and his assholeish ways.

True to himself, Seonghwa laughs and kisses the top of Hongjoong's damp head. "I really am not."

"I hate you so much," he whispers.

"You really don't," Seonghwa replies, and Hongjoong can hear the smile in his voice.

He sighs, a smile forming on his face, too, in spite of himself. "I really don't."

He lets himself be held for a moment, basking in the warmth coming off Seonghwa's body and the sweet scent of their fabric softener. It's funny, to think about how terrified he used to be of this: the casual intimacy, the hugs and random kisses, and the touching just because, just to feel the other's touch. It used to scare him to death, paralyze him with fear, and now here he is, enjoying it, seeking it, even initiating it. Hongjoong from one year ago would probably go into cardiac arrest at the thought of it, but Hongjoong now can't even imagine living without it.

"Joongie," Seonghwa says in his ear after a while, voice impossibly soft. It makes Hongjoong's knees a little weak, the proximity, the intimacy of his tone. He hums to signal he's heard him, to tell him to continue. Seonghwa places a sweet kiss to his temple. "Let me cut your hair."

Hongjoong lifts his head to look him in the eye. "Is this what all this is about?"

One of Seonghwa's hands comes up to card through the long strands at Hongjoong's nape, making him close his eyes for a moment at the sensation. "You have to admit it has gotten quite long," he mutters, his hand moving to push Hongjoong's bangs from his eyes.

It's not... surprising. Hongjoong can't say he was expecting this, but at the same time it makes all the sense. Seonghwa is always looking after him when Hongjoong gets too caught up with life to properly care for himself, making sure he eats, dragging him out of his room when he gets on a mood, and now, apparently, offering to cut his hair when it has, effectively, grown too long. 

“Does it look that bad?” Hongjoong asks, jokingly, making a funny face to make Seonghwa laugh.

Seonghwa snorts and Hongjoong's heart grows a bit. "Nothing could look bad on you, love," he says, his hands still playing with Hongjoong's hair. It still drives Hongjoong a little crazy how he will drop stuff like this on him and expect him to react as though he's not an idiot who's terrified of compliments. But he is, so he makes a little sound at the back of his throat and hits Seonghwa's shoulder with a hand. 

"Shut it, will you," he says, feeling his face heat up. Seonghwa has the audacity to grin genially down at him. “God, you’re an asshole.”

Seonghwa tilts his head to the side, staring at him in mock confusion. “What for? Telling you you look nice? Well, I’m sorry for finding you attractive, but you see, you’re exactly my type so I kinda can’t help it.”

“And what’s that type?” Hongjoong asks, pretending his face isn’t burning red at the moment. He might be terrified of compliments but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t thrive every time Seonghwa says anything nice about him, which is infuriatingly often.

Seonghwa’s eyes twinkle with amusement as he replies. “Oh that would be short, cheeky, bratty twinks who run coffee shops and produce music on their free time.”

“Fuck off, I’m not short,” Hongjoong bristles, slightly pushing him as Seonghwa laughs his head off.

“I knew you were going to say that,” he says in between giggles (because the fucker actually _ giggles _, Hongjoong is so, so fucked). “Did you even hear any of the other things I said?"

And that manages to stop Hongjoong on his tracks as he realizes his brain has evidently logged off the moment it heard the word _ short _. "Eh…" he says sheepishly, ignoring the smug grin on Seonghwa's face. "Was it nice, at least?"

Seonghwa rolls his eyes fondly at him. "No, I was actually saying you're disgusting and I can't stand you."

Hongjoong nods sagely. "That sounds like you," he says in fake seriousness. 

"Yeah, I truly can't bear to see you," Seonghwa replies. It's ridiculously ineffective, with the way he's smiling dumbly at Hongjoong.

"Figured," Hongjoong cracks a smile too, and then they're both laughing. It takes them a while to calm down, because when they think they're done, they'll catch each other's eye and start once again. Hongjoong ends up burying his face on Seonghwa's shoulder, letting Seonghwa take his weight as he shakes from how much he's laughing, feeling Seonghwa's own laugh reverberate in his chest.

"God, you're so stupid, why am I even in love with you?" Seonghwa wheezes.

"Because," Hongjoong starts, and stops when a giggle interrupts him. "Because, if I recall, I'm _ exactly your type _."

"Yeah," Seonghwa breathes. "Yeah, _ unfortunately _."

He runs his hand down Hongjoong's spine in a soothing motion and Hongjoong tries to suppress the shiver that the feeling produces. "So," he says, a bit breathlessly still. "You still wanna cut my hair?"

Seonghwa hums. "If you let me."

Hongjoong shrugs. It really can't get much worse than it already is. "Sure."

"Good," Seonghwa says as he maneuvers him to sit on the chair behind him. He meets Hongjoong's eyes in the mirror and smiles gently at him. "Don't worry, my mom used to cut our hair all the way until highschool and I would help her cut my brother's," he assures Hongjoong as he drapes a towel over his shoulders.

"It's fine, I trust you," Hongjoong replies easily. If he's being honest he hadn't even questioned whether Seonghwa knew what he was doing, he had just assumed he did, since he usually can do mostly everything. 

"Thanks, love," Seonghwa plants a kiss to his head before he gets to work. He cuts efficiently and gently, the way he does everything, and soon Hongjoong's too-long strands start taking the shape of a neat bowl cut. Hongjoong blinks in surprise when his bangs no longer cover his eyes completely. It doesn't look bad. It's obviously not a professional's job, but it does the trick. "Do you want me to shave it at the back?" Seonghwa asks after a while.

Hongjoong considers it for a second, thinking about how soft Seonghwa's undercut feels to the touch, but eventually decides against it, not ready to lose that much hair just yet. "Nah, it's fine like this, thank you."

Seonghwa hums in agreement settling the scissors down on the counter and ruffling Hongjoong's hair. He smiles when Hongjoong whines in protest and settles his chin on top of his head, catching his eyes in the mirror again. "Not to sound like I'm boasting, but you look cute."

Hongjoong rolls his eyes, but smiles at him anyway. "Thank you, I do try."

Seonghwa laughs and pinches his cheek. "Don't be cheeky."

Hongjoong tries to bite at his fingers to no use. "Don't give me reasons to be, then," he says with a pout. Seonghwa coos.

"Aww, look at you, my pouty baby," he says, squishing his cheeks that Hongjoong feels start to heat up.

"I literally hate you so much," he half-whispers, unamused. 

Seonghwa gives him an unimpressed look. "Sure thing," he replies, gently tugging at Hongjoong's earlobe. Hongjoong sticks his tongue out at him eloquently. 

"Hey," he says, all of a sudden. "What if dye my hair again?" His hair has been it's natural dark brown color for the biggest part of the last year, and he's starting to get a bit bored of it.

Seonghwa hums, running his hands through the short strands at his nape mindlessly. "Did you have any color in mind?"

"I was thinking maybe red," Hongjoong poses. Seonghwa takes in a sharp breath and his face shifts almost imperceptibly. "What?"

"Nothing," he replies, too fast, his face looking way too innocent.

"It's not nothing, you- Oh my God, you're thinking dirty things aren't you?" Seonghwa's guilty smile is enough to confirm his accusation. "Seriously?! I feel so objectified in this house right now!"

Seonghwa tugs at his earlobe again, harder this time, effectively shutting him up. "Oh, come on," he says with a little roll of his eyes. "You don't get to talk after the stunt you pulled when I went back to black."

"That's a low blow! You have no idea how hot you look with black hair," Hongjoong replies, shamelessly. Black haired Seonghwa is his favorite Seonghwa and he's always been quite vocal about that.

"I think I do, actually," Seonghwa says with a small smirk. God, he's so infuriating sometimes. "And you have no idea how hot you looked with red hair in my head," he adds before Hongjoong can complain. 

"What would you do if I did dye it?" he asks instead, for strictly scientific purposes. Absolutely no ulterior motives at all.

"Let's just say they'd hear you all the way from New Jersey," Seonghwa replies nonchalantly, as though he didn't just punch the air out of Hongjoong's lungs.

"Stop saying stuff like that unless you want me to pull another stunt," Hongjoong warns him, in all seriousness. God knows he can't keep his hands to himself for long when Seonghwa is involved.

"I mean, it would be a shame if someone were to ruin your perfectly cut hair," a hand runs up his nape, almost a promise.

"Okay," Hongjoong breathes, beginning to stand up. He pushes Seonghwa's grinning face away and starts pushing him towards the door, not caring about the fact that he's stepping on his own hair as he goes. "Okay. Bedroom. Now. Shut up."

Seonghwa's laugh is way too smug as he pulls Hongjoong into his room.

***

A week later sees Hongjoong with bright red hair and dark red bruises in too many places to count. He doesn't know if they heard him in New Jersey, but he's pretty sure he won't be able to look any of their neighbors in the eye ever again. He can't say he's particularly worried about that prospect.

* * *

Hongjoong comes home one day from the studio to find Seonghwa sitting on the couch with a cat on his lap. 

And it's not any cat, no, it's Cat; her little body perfectly curled in a small ball of tricolor fur. 

"Uh, hi?" Hongjoong greets, eyeing the cat. Seonghwa looks up sheepishly at him.

"Before you say anything, they announced snow on TV for the entire week, and I was worried," he explains in a rush. And Hongjoong really should say something, because they agreed that Cat was not coming into the apartment, but Seonghwa's eyes are big and pleading, and Hongjoong knows how much he cares about the damn cat, so he just nods.

"Fine," he concedes, trying to ignore the way his heart stutters in his chest when Seonghwa beams up at him. "But she goes back to the rooftop once the cold is over."

Seonghwa nods, smiling so big Hongjoong thinks his cheeks might hurt. "Thank you, you're the best."

Hongjoong rolls his eyes fondly. "Flattery will get you nowhere."

"That's not true!" Seonghwa calls after him as he goes into the kitchen to get something to drink. "I've seen what complimenting your ass can do!"

Hongjoong nearly chokes on his water. "That was one time."

"You're saying it wouldn't happen again?" Seonghwa asks, giving him a totally not subtle onceover when Hongjoong emerges from the kitchen and leans against the doorframe.

"Please, not in front of the child," Hongjoong says, gulping down the rest of the water to hide his embarrassment. 

Seonghwa laughs. "She can't actually understand us, you know."

"Yeah, but I don't want her learning any bad manners."

"Aw, that's sweet of you,” Seonghwa says snidely. Hongjoong rolls his eyes at him but gives in and walks towards him when Seonghwa stretches a hand in his direction. He lets Seonghwa pull him down on the couch and close to him, planting a kiss to his hair. “How was recording?”

Hongjoong makes himself comfortable against him, his head resting on his shoulder and extending a hand to scratch Cat behind her ear. She makes a little noise and stretches, but continues sleeping on. “It was good. Jongho is so amazing, I can’t believe Mingi hid him from me this entire time.”

“The nerve,” Seonghwa comments, sounding amused.

“I know!”

They sit in silence for a while, both looking at Cat as she happily sleeps, her little paws tucked under her head. She’s so small, Hongjoong still can’t wrap his head around it.

“Should we order in today?” Seonghwa says after a while. Hongjoong blinks to clear his head as he had started to doze off. “I don’t think we should do it with the snowstorm.”

“Smart,” Hongjoong mutters. He retrieves his phone from his pocket and passes it to Seonghwa, too braindead to do it himself. 

“Japanese?” Seonghwa asks, swiftly unlocking Hongjoong’s phone. Hongjoong gives an affirmative grunt. “Good. Go take a shower while I order,” he says, nudging Hongjoong’s head with his shoulder. Hongjoong makes a displeased noise.

“Don’t wanna,” he pouts. Now that all the day’s exhaustion has caught up to him, he doesn’t want to move from this very spot on the couch ever again.

“Come one, love,” Seonghwa coaxes him. “You’ll feel better if you do.”

“You’re just saying this so that you can get rid of me and be alone with the cat,” Hongjoong says, and he’s not even sure if he’s being coherent right now.

Seonghwa laughs. “Yes, that was my plan all along.”

“I always knew you’d ditch me for the furball,” Hongjoong jokes, getting up. He makes an _ I’m watching you _gesture towards Cat’s sleeping form and trails tiredly to the bathroom, the sound of Seonghwa’s laughter fading as he closes the door. 

He shakes his head to himself as he turns on the water, thinking about how ridiculous their entire set-up with Cat is. She's not their cat, per se, but she might as well be, with the amount of time and affection Seonghwa spends on her. Ever since he found her that day on the rooftop a few months ago, one or two before they got together, Seonghwa's sole purpose in life has been getting Hongjoong to say he can keep the damn cat.

And it's not that Hongjoong doesn't like the thing (he has to be honest, he's frankly endeared by her little black and orange ears and cute pink nose), but if he's honest, adopting a cat feels a bit too… permanent. Not like he doesn't want things to be, but he's still an idiot who is afraid of how in love he is. But Seonghwa isn't, apparently, and he named the cat ("You have to have watched _ Breakfast at Tiffany's _, come on!" "Not all of us are a hundred years old.") and keeps trying to find ways to persuade Hongjoong into saying she can stay.

Hongjoong won't give in, though, no matter the amount of big eyed looks and pleading pouts. They're not adopting a cat and that is final. He hops into the shower with that idea in mind, and lets the hot water ease the tension from his tired limbs. He quickly washes himself, the risk of falling asleep under the spray a very real one, and only allows himself five minutes of standing under the hot water with his head empty before he closes it and steps out of the shower. 

He dries himself and waddles over to his room half asleep to throw on some comfortable clothes. He finds a pair of sweats that aren't entirely covered in paint stains and a shirt he's eighty percent sure is Seonghwa's and decides that will do. He gives a final scrub of the towel to his hair before throwing it into the hamper and returning to the living room. 

Seonghwa is in the same spot he left him, reading something on his phone as one of his hands pets Cat's side gently. Hongjoong drops on the couch beside him and eyes the cat again, making a displeased sound.

"What?" Seonghwa asks, not looking up from his phone. He's so good at pretending he doesn't notice Hongjoong wants attention.

"That's my spot," Hongjoong pouts, still looking at the little black-white-orange thief.

Seonghwa puts down his phone and gives him an amused look. "You look ready to fight her."

"I will if I must," Hongjoong replies without hesitation. Who does the little furball think she is? Coming in like this and stealing his man.

"I don't think that will be necessary," Seonghwa says, a smile threatening to appear on his face. He stretches the arm closest to Hongjoong out in invitation. "You can share."

Hongjoong groans, but still wraps himself around Seonghwa's side, hiding his face on the crook of his neck. "I don't wanna," he whines. Seonghwa kisses his temple.

"Cute," he mutters, and Hongjoong is too tired to berate him for it, so he just makes a negative grunt and nuzzles closer. "Are you gonna fall asleep?"

"Maybe," Hongjoong says tiredly.

"You should eat something first," Seonghwa tells him, his hand rubbing soothing circles on his shoulder.

"Wake me up when the food's here," Hongjoong yawns against his shirt.

Seonghwa chuckles. "Okay," he says softly, his hand never stopping its gentle movement across Hongjoong's shoulder.

Hongjoong dozes off for a while, not quite falling asleep but not completely awake either, the calming rise and fall of Seonghwa's breaths and the weight of his exhaustion lulling him into this state of semi-consciousness that is broken by the doorbell several minutes later. He gives a whine of complaint when Seonghwa gently removes himself from his hold, pressing a kiss to his head and saying he'll be right back before he's gone. 

He falls back on the couch, scrubbing his eyes and scowling in the general direction of everything. He lets his head drop to the side and catches sight of his phone on the coffee table. With a groan, he stretches to grab it and quickly sorts through his notifications. One in particular catches his eye. It's a message from San on Instagram consisting solely of puking emojis. He opens it with a quirked eyebrow. As it turns out, it's the follow-up to a story he sent. Seonghwa's story.

Hongjoong fearfully taps on the little rectangle in the chat, nearly throwing his phone across the room when he sees the picture that pops up on his screen. It's a shot of of Seonghwa grinning smugly at the camera, Hongjoong's face buried in his neck with his eyes closed, and Cat sleeping on his lap. The caption reads _ who's the real cat? _followed by an emoji of a heart-eyed cat. Hongjoong is going to kill him.

He texts so to San, who replies not even five seconds later with _ tell him to tag his nsfw smh _. Hongjoong doesn't even bother dignifying that with a response, closing the phone and throwing it on the couch.

"You're not cute!" he yells in the direction of the kitchen. There's a few beats of silence before Seonghwa bursts out laughing.

"But you sure are!" he replies over the sound of plastic containers being placed on the counter.

"I want a divorce!" Hongjoong shoots back, turning and poking Cat's side where she is still sleeping beside him on the couch. "Keep your damn cat, since you like her so much!"

"But I like you more," Seonghwa says, coming out of the kitchen with a ramen bowl in each hand, the perfect picture of innocence. He places them on the table and smiles sweetly at Hongjoong. "Food?" 

Hongjoong glares at him for a few seconds before his stomach protests at the sight of food. Seonghwa's smile grows a tad smug as Hongjoong gets up and stomps his way to the nearest chair. "I don't like you," he says, sitting on it, breaking the chopsticks and digging into the food without any other preamble. Seonghwa laughs and ruffles his hair before sitting in front of him.

"You sure don't," he concedes over Hongjoong's grunt of protest. 

They eat in silence for a while, Hongjoong pretending he's not looking up and stealing glances at Seonghwa every once in a while. It's not uncomfortable, their silences never are, and they both know Hongjoong isn't really mad, so it's more of a game of seeing who will cave first.

It's Seonghwa who speaks. "I've seen the jacket, it looks good," he comments, off-handedly, like they've been speaking this entire time.

"Thanks," Hongjoong replies, stealing a bit of meat from Seonghwa's bowl. It earns him a swat on the back of his hand but it's worth it. "I think I'll have it finished soon."

"I'm sure it'll be cool," Seonghwa says, giving him a smile with his cheeks full of noodles. He's so cute, Hongjoong finds himself smiling too in spite of himself. 

"You know me," he says, pretending to toss his hair over his shoulder. "Coolest kid in town."

Seonghwa lets out a snort, throwing some green onion at him. "Shut up, you're like, the opposite of that."

Hongjoong lets out an affronted gasp and tosses a piece of seaweed in retaliation. "Take that back!"

"You really wanna start a fight?" Seonghwa levels him with an amused look. 

Hongjoong returns it with a glare of his own. "Bring it on."

"Are you gonna clean later, though?" Seonghwa asks calmly. Hongjoong hates him a bit for knowing exactly how to manipulate him into doing what he wants.

"_ Fine, _" he signs, stuffing some noodles into his mouth. "Bot don't think this won't have consequences," he threatens with his chopsticks. Seonghwa simply smiles at him, cute and boxy, and goes back to eating without another word. Hongjoong makes a mental note to tickle him later.

He feels something rub against his ankle and looks down to find Cat staring up at him with those big eyes of hers. He stares back for a second, trying to assert dominance, but gives up when the little thief doesn't look away. 

"What do you want?" he hisses down at her. The cat, obviously, doesn't reply other than rubbing against his leg again.

"Hm?" Seonghwa hums in front of him, and he must realize what's going on because Hongjoong hears a chuckle. "I think she's hungry."

"I'm not giving you my food," Hongjoong tells her. Cat looks up at him and blinks slowly. "That won't work."

"I got her something on my way home," Seonghwa says, getting up. He gently scoops Cat up in his arms and walks to the kitchen.

"You bastard, you planned this, didn't you?" Hongjoong calls after him. He hears a cabinet open and close and the sound of a can being opened.

"Maybe," Seonghwa's voice sounds a bit guilty. He should be.

"I said we're not getting a cat," Hongjoong starts his spiel once again. 

"I know, I heard you the other thousand times," Seonghwa sighs as he comes back to the table, no cat in tow. "But she can't keep living on the rooftop, and she likes us," he says, looking at Hongjoong with big, pleading eyes. Hongjoong holds his ground for exactly two seconds before he gives in, groaning and looking away with a pout.

"One week," he concedes, still not daring to look at Seonghwa for fear of the things his heart might do. "We try this week, and if I don't see it, then she goes back, okay?"

He barely has time to finish the sentence before he's being pulled into a kiss by a hand on the back of his head. It's the worst angle imaginable, Seonghwa is half standing, one hand flat against the table as he holds Hongjoong with the other, and Hongjoong can feel the edge dig into his ribs, but Seonghwa is kissing him like this might be the last time he kisses him, and Hongjoong's brain clocks out for a few seconds.

"Thank you," Seonghwa breathes against his mouth, kissing him again, short and tender. "You won't regret it, I promise."

Hongjoong makes a humming sound, nipping at his bottom lip. "We'll see." Seonghwa just kisses him in response, successfully making him shut up for a while.

***

"The cat is not sleeping on the bed."

"But look at her, how can you say no to this face?"

"Choose: the cat or me."

"Good night, Hongjoong-ah."

"You've got to be kidding me."

***

"Did you just take a picture of Cat?"

"I didn't."

"No, I just saw you, you took a picture of her!"

"Maybe she looked cute or whatever!"

"You like her!"

"Why do I suddenly feel like I'm in highschool again?"

"You like her! You like our cat!"

"Do you realize how stupid you sound right now?"

***

**Joong: **pick up some cat food on your way home

**Joong: **someones hungry

**Hwa: **do you prefer chicken or tuna

**Joong: **very funny

**Joong: **istg you make the same joke every time

**Hwa: **ilu~

**Joong: **just hurry up, were bored

**Joong: **[attached image]

**Hwa: **gross

**Hwa: **im setting this as my lockscreen

**Joong: **lol gay

* * *

The bar they usually frequent is packed when they all walk in that Friday night. It takes them nearly ten minutes to find a table, and by the time they're all sitting, Hongjoong can already feel his shirt sticking to his back. 

It's too late to back out now, mostly because this was his idea, but also because he's trapped in between Yunho and Seonghwa, feeling ridiculously small on the couch of the booth. He tries not to think too much about all the parts of him that are accidentally touching Seonghwa; he doesn't need to give himself a headache before it's strictly necessary. 

"So this is where Mingi works?" San asks over the music. He's half draped over Wooyoung, and Hongjoong has to wonder how do they not feel like they're being boiled alive.

"I still can't believe you lot know him," Yunho says, his face lighting up the way it does when he thinks or talks about Mingi. And then he says Hongjoong is obvious with his crush. He shares a look with Yeosang and they both have to look away to stop from laughing.

"Dude, I know! What are the odds?" Wooyoung screeches happily. And Hongjoong adores him to no end but that was _ so loud _.

As it turns out, Mingi (Hongjoong's college friend and Yunho's not so secret crush), happens to be the roommate of Wooyoung's co-worker. Hongjoong has only met Jongho a few times, but he seems like a really genuine and funny kid. 

"Where is Jongho, by the way?" Yunho asks.

"He texted me a while ago saying the subway is delayed and he'll be late," Wooyoung explains. They all nod in sympathy. Been there.

"Well, if it isn't my favorite bunch of people with day shifts," Mingi's voice makes everyone turn their attention to the end of the table. There he is, with a notepad in hand and a grin so big it threatens to split his face. 

"Hi, Mingi!" San greets him enthusiastically. Hongjoong catches the tail end of Yeosang's fond smile in his direction.

"Hey guys," Mingi greets back. "What can I get you? Or are you here just to admire the view?" he pretends to drape a leg over the table, exposing his long body to everyone present. Seriously, Hongjoong needs shorter friends. He hears Yunho make a little strangled noise behind him and resists the urge to bang his head against the table.

"Just drinks, please!" he says before Yunho dies.

"Oh, hey, Joong, didn't see you there," Mingi tells him with an evil smile. Hongjoong hates him sometimes.

"Yes, haha, we get it, I'm short," he says, dismissive. "Are you gonna take our order or should I call someone else?"

"You said it this time," Seonghwa mutters beside him. Hongjoong sends him a glare that is met with a grin. He kind of hates everyone sitting on this table right now.

"Order up," Mingi says, still smiling smugly. He quickly scribbles their orders in his notepad, and Hongjoong doesn't miss the wink he sends in Yunho's direction when he leaves, which makes Yunho stare dreamily at the wall for a couple of minutes.

"Gross," San comments, as though he's not practically sitting on Wooyoung's lap.

"You? Yes," says Jongho, dropping himself next to San, looking out of breath. "Sorry everyone, the damn subway."

"It's fine," Yeosang reassures him. "We just ordered."

"If that had been me, he would have chewed my head off," Hongjoong whispers to Seonghwa, who just laughs slightly.

"Privileges of being the youngest, I guess," he replies.

"Are _ you _ calling me old?" Hongjoong asks in mock offense.

"I'm saying you're not as cute," Seonghwa replies easily, looking too pleased with himself. Sometimes it's easy to forget he's in love with him, because, man, is he an asshole when he wants to.

"That's such bullshit," he huffs, pouting. 

Seonghwa pats his shoulder with an amused look on his face and Hongjoong does everything he can not to pull away in panic. "Accept it."

"Never."

Their drinks come shortly after, Mingi stopping for a moment to greet Jongho (and blatantly flirt with Yunho some more) before he disappears again with the promise of joining them as soon as his shift is over. 

"That was so painful to watch," Wooyoung whines, dropping his head on the table. Yeosang pats his head pityingly.

"You get used to it," he says in that amused tone he only saves for Wooyoung.

"Tell me we weren't like that," he pleads, pouting in Yeosang's direction.

"Oh, no, you two were worse," San chides in happily. Both his boyfriends turn to glare at him. "What? I was on the receiving end, I know how bad it was."

"How did you guys get together, anyway?" Yunho asks, clearly eager to direct the attention somewhere else that aren't Mingi's flirting attempts.

"Please, no, don't get them started," Yeosang begs, to no use, because San and Wooyoung have turned to Yunho with twin beaming smiles.

"So," Wooyoung starts, making sure everyone is paying attention to him. Hongjoong catches Yeosang burying his face in his hands. "You all know how Yeosang and I have been best friends since basically forever, right?"

"As if you'd let anyone forget," Jongho says snidely. Wooyoung only smiles bigger.

"Damn right," he says. "We used to do everything together and, not gonna lie, I had always been a little in love with him even if I didn't know just yet. So fast forward a few years, we're finishing uni in Korea, and suddenly Yeosang gets this apparently super good internship in New York, and he can't say no, because it's exactly his field, and he's been talking about it non-stop and whatnot, so he goes. 

"And I'm so happy for him, I really am, because damn, that's my best friend being all smart and getting to do what he loves, but at the same time I'm like: dude, I miss him so much. So being the dumbass I am, I book the first plane ticket to New York I can find and I fly my ass here with no idea of what I'm doing except following my best friend."

"He got scolded for that one," San adds. Wooyoung nods gravely, but the smile never leaves his face.

"You bet I did, babe," he continues. "Yeosang got so mad at me he didn't speak to me for like, a month."

"It wasn't that long!" Yeosang interrupts him, his face looking a bit red.

"It sure felt like it was!" Wooyoung replies, but there's no real heat behind it. They look at each other for a moment before they seem to reach a sort of nonverbal agreement and Wooyoung continues with his story. "So yeah, I ended up staying because, come on, man, how could I not. Yeosang's internship turned out to be whack, I found a job and everything, but that's not really relevant. What is relevant is the fact that, a year later or so, we meet San."

The aforementioned boy points to himself and grins, dimples in full display. Both Wooyoung and Yeosang look adoringly at him for a second. It's cute, Hongjoong has to admit.

"And, like, Sangie and I haven't exactly talked about what we are to each other but I think at this point we both know there's something going on in there. But then, add San to the picture and everything gets like ten times more confusing, because dude, I like Yeosang, I fucking know that, but at the same time I find myself falling for San too, so you can imagine the chaos."

"When I first met them, I thought they were dating," San explains. "And it was a bit weird cause we kept hanging out and my poly ass realized I liked them both a lot, but I kept telling myself not to say anything cause they were obviously in love with each other, so what place did I have in all of that?"

"Oh, I remember that breakdown," Seonghwa says, a gentle smile on his face. San nods. Wooyoung coos and plants a kiss on his cheek.

"You have a very special place in all of this," he says sweetly. Jongho makes a gagging noise.

"San confessed to us," Yeosang clarifies. "If it weren't for him we probably wouldn't be here right now."

"Shut up, that's not true," San says, his cheeks getting red.

"Give yourself some credit," Yeosang scolds him, but his face and tone are fond beyond belief. San shakes his head.

"All I did was get really drunk and tell them that I liked them, but that I understood that they were together and that I would do nothing about it if it made them uncomfortable. And then they explained to me that they were not dating, and Wooyoungie said that he was in a similar position and then Yeosangie said that we should give it a try, like, all three of us, and here we are now," he makes little jazz hands to punctuate his statement, making everyone laugh.

"That was so cute, oh my God," Yunho says from behind his hands. San gives him a dimpled smile in return before he's being tackled by Wooyoung's hug.

"It was, and I love you both so much," Wooyoung says with his head on San's shoulder, stretching a hand in Yeosang's direction. Yeosang takes it, looking every bit embarrassed to death.

"Please, I'm gonna throw up," Jongho says, and everyone breaks down laughing as Wooyoung tries to get past San to strangle him.

* * *

It is surprisingly easier than one would expect to hide your relationship status change from your friends. It's not like they're trying really hard to hide it, but so far, it's been two weeks and no one has mentioned anything. It might have to do with the fact that neither Hongjoong nor Seonghwa are really big on PDA. Or with the fact that they were practically married already before they even started dating for real. Or with the fact that all of their friends are too busy with each other to notice Seonghwa's hand high on Hongjoong's thigh when they go out for drinks.

Hongjoong can't complain, really, not when he's being pressed against the wall of the storage room he'd pulled Seonghwa into with the excuse of doing inventory during a lull in between rush hours. Seonghwa's lips on his slowly tear him apart as he holds Hongjoong's hips with steady hands. 

It's also surprisingly easy to sneak out during work to make out in some corner or other. It's extremely irresponsible, and the reasonable part of Hongjoong's mind wants to scold himself for letting this happen. The biggest part of Hongjoong's mind, though, the giddy, lovestruck fool who is still in honeymoon phase, can't do anything but let Seonghwa kiss him stupid as he tries to suppress all the little sounds coming off his mouth.

"Shhh," Seonghwa whispers against his neck, soft lips working at his pulse point. "Can't have everyone hearing you, can we, love?"

Hongjoong bites down a whine at the pet name. "Then stop saying things like that," he pants uselessly. 

"But your face is so cute when I say them," Seonghwa says, and Hongjoong can hear the smile in his voice.

He doesn't know how to reply to that, so he resorts to slamming their mouths together again and licking into Seonghwa's mouth. That's sure to shut him up. Seonghwa happily follows, sucking on his tongue as his hands roam his hips. This is dangerous, Hongjoong thinks, he might not take full responsibility of what happens next if Seonghwa keeps doing _ that _.

He's about to suggest a slower pace when the door suddenly opens. 

"Do you guys know where-" Yunho's question dies in his mouth as he gapes at the two of them. They've separated like they just got burned, but Hongjoong is pretty sure they both look disheveled to say the least. "Oh my God," Yunho breathes out before he's storming out of the room calling Yeosang's name.

Hongjoong groans and lets his head fall back against the wall. Seonghwa lets out a little laugh and gives him a fond look. "It was bound to happen sooner or later."

"Yes, but I wanted to _ tell _ him," Hongjoong laments. He knows he's never hearing the end of this. "Fuck, he's gonna be so annoying."

He lets Seonghwa take his hand and pull him into a lose hug. "He was going to be annoying anyway, we just gave him some extra material to start from," he says, placing a kiss to Hongjoong's temple. Hongjoong sighs.

"I guess you're right." He lets Seonghwa rock them back and forth for a moment before he decides there's no use in sulking. "Let's go do some damage control, yeah?"

"Oh, I'm pretty sure everyone knows by now, but if it will make you feel better…" he says with a little smile. Hongjoong pushes him away, ready to leave him standing in here alone, but he quickly catches his hand and pulls them flush together again. "I'm joking," he says softly, and Hongjoong still hasn't found the way to deal with that fond stare. "Go give them an earful."

"Are you going to come for moral support?" Hongjoong asks. He isn't sure he can deal with all of Yunho's and Yeosang's combined teasing on his own.

"I mean, it'll be fun," Seonghwa grins. 

"Gee, thanks for the faith," Hongjoong says with an eye roll.

Seonghwa pecks him on the nose. "Anytime."

Hongjoong definitely doesn't blush at that. "God, just- just go, oh my God," he pushes him out the door to hide his embarrassment.

Needless to say, Yunho and Yeosang are waiting for them outside, sporting similar smug grins. Hongjoong wants to bash their heads together.

"So," Yunho starts, his cheeks looking like they might hurt from how big he's smiling. "Wanna tell us something?"

"As a matter of fact, did you know that the ice caps are melting at an alarmingly fast rate?" Hongjoong tells him, not wanting to give him the satisfaction just yet. It's also worth the snort it pulls from Seonghwa. "The polar bears are dying, Yun."

Yunho's face falls a bit in confusion. "What…"

Yeosang pats his shoulder pityingly. "Don't listen to him, he's trying to mess with you," he says softly. Turning to Hongjoong he says "Alright, Mr Global Warming, spill."

And it's one thing to tease Yunho, because it comes as a second nature to him, but Yeosang is kind of scary when he looks at you with that stern set of eyes. So Hongjoong does the logical thing to do and hides behind Seonghwa. "You tell them," he croaks.

Seonghwa looks at him with an unimpressed eyebrow raised. "Wow, so brave."

"Never said I was!" Hongjoong reasons. He can hear Yeosang chuckle and risks a glance over Seonghwa's shoulder to see him smiling good-naturedly at them. "You're not cute!" Hongjoong tells him. Yeosang just shrugs.

"So are you guys a thing? Finally? Officially?" he asks. Seonghwa nods, and Hongjoong can't see his face, but he hopes he's smiling at least a bit.

Yunho is practically bouncing in place, his entire face glowing from excitement. "How long?"

"Two weeks?" Seonghwa turns to ask him. Hongjoong nods.

"Give or take."

Yunho goes very still. "And you didn't say anything?!"

Hongjoong shrinks behind Seonghwa again, feeling grateful for his small frame for the first time in his life. "I was going to tell you," he says in a small voice.

"When? On your wedding day? I swear to God, you forget about your friends the moment you get some dick…" Yunho says, sounding and looking every bit betrayed. Hongjoong chokes on air.

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that," Yeosang mutters. He turns to Seonghwa. "Does San know? Wait, no, stupid question. San doesn't know because he'd have told everyone otherwise."

"San doesn't know," Seonghwa concedes with a small nod. Yeosang smirks. 

"You're in big trouble."

Seonghwa sighs. "I know."

"You should tell him before Yunho does."

"I will."

"Don't be so sure about that," Yunho interrupts them. 

Hongjoong peeks out from behind Seonghwa's shoulder. "Yunho, for once in your life, please, _ please _, be quiet," he pleads.

"Did you guys hear something?" Yunho asks, making it a show to pretend he doesn't see Hongjoong. "I thought I'd heard my best friend but that can't be cause he's dead to me."

"I'm gonna kill _ you _," Hongjoong says before he's trying to tackle Yunho to the ground. The taller boy just laughs and pushes Hongjoong's hands away. He grabs Hongjoong's wrists and holds him still as he tries to kick him. "Couldn't you just be happy for me like a normal best friend?" Hongjoong demands, once he's effectively neutralized, pouting in Yunho's hold.

"I _ am _happy for you!" Yunho shakes his wrists for emphasis. "For both of you! It was about time."

"Shut up," Hongjoong says, without any real heat behind it.

"He's right, though," Seonghwa concedes. Hongjoong turns to give him a disbelieving look only to find his and Yeosang's twin grins staring back at him.

"Aren't you supposed to be on my side? Why am I the only one getting scolded?" Hongjoong asks, struggling against Yunho's hold.

"You're easy to tease," Seonghwa simply answers, and he's lucky Yunho is still holding Hongjoong back, because he's this close to kicking him on the shin.

"That can be easily solved," Yeosang interrupts, a grin Hongjoong can only describe as wicked on his face. "Want me to call Wooyoung?"

Hongjoong can see Seonghwa positively blanch at the thought. "No, please," he mutters. Hongjoong smiles, it's cute how scared Seonghwa is of the younger boy's teasing.

"Good," Yeosang says, sounding final. "Now you go call San and you two go back to the counter. This is fucking customer service for God's sake," he sends a glare in Hongjoong and Seonghwa's direction, and they both tense up. 

It's easy to forget Yeosang was the last person they hired, because he usually is the only one who manages to make everything go according to plan. Hongjoong isn't sure how they survived without him.

"You know, this is my shop," he tells him as they all cross the bead curtain that separates the back rooms and the shop. He and Yunho make their way towards the counter, where, obviously, a few people are waiting already.

Yeosang gives him an unimpressed look. "Do I look like I care?"

Hongjoong is about to say something else when Seonghwa grabs Yeosang by the shoulders and starts steering him towards the doorway of the flower shop. "He's joking, don't mind him," he says rushedly over his shoulder. 

"I'm not!" Hongjoong hears Yeosang retort before they disappear. He laughs. What a ridiculous bunch they are.

* * *

The old clock hanging across the room reads 05:57 am when Hongjoong turns on the coffee machine behind the counter. He's done arranging the chairs and tables in the sitting area, making sure there's enough space to both sit comfortably and to be able to navigate between them without trouble. The counter is clean and empty, the glass case expecting today's pastries, and the little blank whiteboard ready to have today's offers written on it.

Waking up at 5 am hasn't been a hassle in the past three years, even though, if he's honest, Hongjoong had thought it would be at first. He'd never imagined, when he finished uni, that he'd end up as the co-owner of a small café slash flower shop in a rather busy part of town. So when the opportunity arose, he had been a bit wary at first. But after some thinking on his part, and some coercing on Seonghwa's part, he'd accepted, and here he was.

And the thing is, Hongjoong loves his job. He loves offering good coffee and a relaxed atmosphere for people to catch a break. He loves the bond he creates with the regulars and everyone who works here. There's nothing that pleases him more than having his employees happy and satisfied with the work they're doing, that's something Seonghwa and he have always agreed on.

“Joong, have you seen the blue sprinkles?” as if summoned by Hongjoong's thoughts, Seonghwa's head pops up from the door of the back rooms, where he is preparing the pastries for today. There's flour smudged on his nose and Hongjoong snorts quietly to himself when he sees it. “What's so funny?” Seonghwa asks, one eyebrow raising in question. 

“Nothing, nothing,” Hongjoong replies, going to retrieve the little jar with the blue sprinkles from under the counter. “They're here, sorry I stole them, a kid wanted some on his whipped cream yesterday and they _had_ _to be blue_,” he explains, copying the kid's insistence.

Seonghwa chuckles softly, his nose scrunching up, and Hongjoong feels ridiculously giddy that his dumb story made him laugh.

“That's cute,” Seonghwa comments before taking the jar from Hongjoong's hand. There's no sparks or electricity when their fingers brush, because life is not a damned self insert fanfiction, but Hongjoong imagines them anyway. Call him a hopeless romantic.

He cracks a smile in Seonghwa's direction, mirroring the one he is giving Hongjoong, and for a moment, he feels like they'll say something else. He imagines himself saying 'like you’, and Seonghwa laughing, or cringing, telling him to shut up. 

But they don't. Seonghwa simply nods slightly and disappears behind the door again, leaving Hongjoong to deal with the shop. He sighs. It's always been like this, with Seonghwa, ever since they met seven years ago. There's always this underlying _ thing _. It's too soft to call it tension but it's definitely something, and it makes Hongjoong wish he was a little braver, a little better at words, to just step up and ask Seonghwa whether he feels it too or if it's only Hongjoong's imagination.

It's not like it makes things awkward (on the contrary, Hongjoong can't think of many people with whom he's as comfortable as he is around Seonghwa), it's only that Hongjoong knows they could be different. More. If only he stopped being a coward. 

But things are good. The shop runs smoothly for the first time since they opened three years ago, and they're inaugurating their open mic evenings this week. Seonghwa's pastries have never been in more demand, and for the past month they've even had enough money to hire some extra help. So what if Hongjoong is half in love with his co-worker, who is also the co-owner of the shop, and who happens to be his roommate? He's a big boy, he can deal with it.

* * *

They take the subway in the evenings, after they’ve closed everything up and sent the kids home. They live only a couple of blocks away, but the stop is just underneath their building, and it’s easier than walking when they are both too tired from standing behind a counter all day. They’ll sit if there’s enough empty space, and Hongjoong will pull out his earphones, untangle them, pass one to Seonghwa silently, and put on whatever song he’s been listening to lately. It’s become an habit of sorts; Hongjoong will use these short stretches of time to show Seonghwa new music he finds, or old favorites that he wants the older to listen to, and Seonghwa will comment on them, or simply close his eyes and move his head calmly to the beat. Hongjoong's head will loll until it falls on Seonghwa's shoulder, and for once, he'll be too tired to panic about the closeness. It feels right, domestic to an extent, and Hongjoong cherishes these moments. 

There’s no empty seats when they get on the carriage this evening, so they stay by the door, Seonghwa lifts an arm to catch one of the handles and steadies Hongjoong with the other when the train starts and he’s still busy fetching his earphones. It makes their chests bump in the crowded carriage, and heat fills Hongjoong’s body. He wordlessly passes an earplug to Seonghwa, who puts it in his ear with a small smile, and then opens his music gallery to try and find a song that fits his mood. A song he’s had in his _ ‘to listen’ _ list for a while picks his interest, and he hits play before he has time to think twice, the strident sound of a violin fading into a soft and steady beat before the lyrics start.

_ To be young and in love in New York City, _ the song proclaims. _ To not know who I am but still know that I'm good long as you're here with me, _ and Hongjoong has the sudden realization that maybe this song hits a bit too close to home. _ To be drunk and in love in New York City. _He doesn’t dare look up to see Seonghwa’s face as the song lays his heart bare in front of him. 

_ Midnight into morning coffee _

_ Burning through the hours talking _

_ Damn _

The subway jumps and Hongjoong loses his balance, tumbling forward before a firm arm settles around his waist and steadies him. It is by far the first time this has happened, it is a more than common occurrence, with how careless Hongjoong becomes when he’s tired, but it is the first time Seonghwa doesn’t remove his arm from around him. He says nothing, just holds Hongjoong close to him, as if they’re not in a carriage full of people, as if it’s only them in the world, as if they do this on the regular. And Hongjoong doesn’t know what to do. This is uncharted territory. They don’t do this in public. 

What does it mean?

Is Seonghwa listening to the song and realizing just about the same things Hongjoong is? Can he see the way Hongjoong’s feelings resonate in these lyrics? Is he okay with that? Is he… Does he feel the same? Is it Hongjoong’s turn to make a move? To risk it all, to initiate something? Hongjoong doesn’t know, can’t know, because Seonghwa’s mind is a mystery to him, because he’s a coward. But he’s a coward that’s tired of not knowing. A coward that’s tired of guessing from beautiful smiles and loaded glances and maybe not so lingering touches. A coward who might try. 

_ I might get to too much talking _

_ I might have to tell you something _

And maybe precisely because he’s a coward, he leans forward and tentatively rests his head against Seonghwa’s shoulder instead of looking up at him, neither of them saying a thing, because what is there to say, really?

_ I knew from the first time, I'd stay for a long time ‘cause _

And Seonghwa has always been the brave one out of the two of them, has apparently always known where they stand, because the arm around Hongjoong tightens its hold and his thumb starts drawing little circles on the small of his back, as if trying to caress the exhaustion away. And Hongjoong can’t do anything but stand there in his arms, hands desperately clutching at Seonghwa’s coat and face hidden in his shoulder, taking breath after shuddering breath as his mind runs in overdrive and his heart threatens to burst out of his chest.

_ I like me better when I’m with you _

The song finishes, and leaves them in the relative silence of their little bubble in the middle of a subway carriage. As far as public displays of affection go, this is far from being spectacular. Just two young, tired men standing in a crowded subway on a late autumn evening, leaning against each other for comfort and warmth. But if you know Seonghwa and Hongjoong the way they know each other, you know this is entirely new for them. An oddity. A terrifying leap into uncertainty. Or at least it is what it feels like to Hongjoong as the train slows down and reaches their stop. 

Seonghwa releases him wordlessly, but one of his hands catches the cuff of Hongjoong's jacket and he practically drags him out of the carriage. They stand in the platform for a moment, and then Hongjoong feels a tug on his sleeve as Seonghwa hands his earplug back to him. He takes it, dumbfounded, and finally looks up at Seonghwa's face for the first time since they got inside the subway carriage. 

There's a strange emotion in Seonghwa's eyes, something Hongjoong recognizes but can't quite name, and his heart picks up in his chest. Seonghwa's eyes scan his face in search for something, and he must find whatever it is, because he softly says '_ home _' before pulling Hongjoong to the exit.

And all Hongjoong can do is let himself be dragged by his cuff, Seonghwa only letting him go long enough to allow him to fumble with his wallet and let himself out of the station before he's grabbing at him again, taking his hand this time, and making Hongjoong's entire world tilt for a second. 

They go up the stairs of their old building in record time, and before Hongjoong can process anything of what's happening, they're inside the apartment and Seonghwa has closed the door behind him. He lets go of Hongjoong's hand, turns to him and asks:

"What was that song?"

His eyes are wide, and his cheeks are flushed from rushing up the stairs, and his lips are pink because his damn perfect lips are _ always _pink, and all Hongjoong can think of is how much he wants to kiss him. 

"I don't know," he breathes out instead, letting all his confusion bleed into a single sentence. Seonghwa's eyes narrow at that, and he leans against the door, as if he's suddenly out of breath.

"You mean," he says, and he sounds disbelieving, "that you'd never listened to it before?"

Hongjoong shakes his head fervently, still not understanding anything. "That was also my first time listening to it."

"But I thought…" Seonghwa trails off, bringing his hands up to cover his face. He lets out a humorless laugh against them. "I can't believe I just made a fool of myself like that," he whispers, and Hongjoong isn't sure he was meant to hear it.

"I… I don't understand," he says quietly. Because his heart is still beating in staccato inside his chest and he wants answers. He's through with guessing.

"This wasn't supposed to happen like this," Seonghwa mutters, before removing his hands from his face. He straightens up, pushes himself up from the door and takes a step closer to Hongjoong. He looks at him straight in the eye before he grimaces, looking away. 

"What wasn't?" Hongjoong asks, trying to get him to talk, to explain whatever the hell just happened inside that subway carriage. 

"Me telling you…” he cuts himself off again, still looking down at his feet, and Hongjoong wants to force his chin up, to make him look him in the eye.

“You telling me what, Seonghwa?” Hongjoong presses. Seonghwa must hear the urgency in his tone, because his head snaps up, and that emotion is back to his eyes, and a foolish, hopeful part of Hongjoong thinks he knows the name for it now. 

Seonghwa wets his lips, Hongjoong’s eyes involuntarily following the movement, and takes yet another step closer. Hongjoong feels the space between them fill with electricity. Seonghwa takes a deep breath. 

And releases it.

“Me telling you that I've been in love with you for the past five years or so," he says, and everything stops.

Hongjoong's heart, all of New York City, the entire world stops as the electricity between them crackles and pops, running through Hongjoong and leaving him breathless. Everything stops as he looks at Seonghwa, who is looking back at him with an open expression, having laid all his cards on the table and waiting for Hongjoong to show his hand.

Hongjoong, who is a coward. Who has been in love with the man in front of him for the biggest part of the past seven years. Who tells himself Seonghwa could never reciprocate those feelings. Who feels his heart kickstart in his chest as he looks into Seonghwa's eyes and finds nothing but truth there. Who might try.

"Please, tell me that means I can kiss you right now," he chokes out, and the way Seonghwa's face lights up at his words makes him feel like someone just pulled the floor from under his feet. Seonghwa laughs and walks the two steps separating them, stepping right into Hongjoong's space, and cups his face with his hands. 

"That's the weirdest _ I love you too _ I've heard," he breathes into the inches between them, and if Hongjoong were in his right mind and not about to cry, he would kick him for being an asshole in a moment like this. But as it is, Hongjoong _ is _about to cry, so he does the thing he should have done a long time ago and pushes up to his tiptoes to kiss Seonghwa silent.

And Seonghwa, the fucker, has the audacity to laugh against Hongjoong's lips as his hands slide from his cheeks to his nape, tilting Hongjoong's head just so, so that he can kiss him back smoothly. It would be infuriating if it wasn't so fucking good. 

It's gentle, because despite being an asshole, Seonghwa is still Seonghwa. He nips and sucks at Hongjoong's lips, but never takes it too far. He's testing, seeing how much Hongjoong will allow, and Hongjoong wants him to kiss him numb, until he can’t feel anything but Seonghwa. Seonghwa's hands slide down his sides carefully, and settle at his waist, squeezing lightly, pulling a small sound from the back of Hongjoong's throat. His own arms find their way around Seonghwa's neck, his hands carding through soft hair.

It's gentle, right until it's not. Right until Hongjoong decides he's had enough of gentle, and presses his entire body to Seonghwa's, taking advantage of the other's surprised gasp to lick into his mouth. Seonghwa's arms tighten around his waist, bringing them flush together. It's a flurry of tongues and teeth from then, Hongjoong's jacket falling to the floor as Seonghwa's insistent hands seek out skin under his shirt.

Hongjoong's legs start to ache from standing on his tiptoes so he pulls away only long enough to lower himself and get Seonghwa out of his coat, before pulling at the front of Seonghwa's sweater and reconnecting their lips. And he doesn’t stop pulling, walks them backwards until the backs of his thighs hit the couch, and he loses his balance, falling backwards and dragging Seonghwa down with him.

They fall in a tangle of limbs, Hongjoong letting out an undignified yelp as his back hits the couch and Seonghwa lands on top of him with a soft _ 'oof'. _They look at each other for a long second, both too dumbstruck to process anything, before they both burst out laughing. 

"Ugh, get off, you weigh a ton," Hongjoong whines, pushing at Seonghwa's shoulder. Seonghwa simply buries his face in the crook of Hongjoong's neck and laughs breathlessly. And Hongjoong loves his laugh, it makes everything in him feel warm and at ease, and he wants nothing more than to listen to him laugh forever.

"You clumsy fuck," Seonghwa chuckles against his neck, his hot breath making Hongjoong shiver. 

“I wasn’t exactly paying attention,” Hongjoong explains, his fingers poking at Seonghwa’s sides. Seonghwa makes a little noise and squirms on top of him, punching the air out of Hongjoong's lungs. “No, but seriously, get off, I can’t breathe,” he wheezes.

“Right, sorry,” Seonghwa mutters, and presses a kiss under Hongjoong's jaw before he pushes himself up, hovering over him. "Well, hello there," he smirks.

"I can't believe you," Hongjoong says, flustered, trying to push his face away. Seonghwa laughs and stands up, grabbing Hongjoong's hands and dragging him until he's sitting up, and maneuvers him until they're both settled on the couch, their shoulders pressed together in a position not unlike the ones they end up when they watch dramas, but that feels different now.

"So what now?" Hongjoong asks, trying to ignore the hand that Seonghwa has placed high on his thigh, that's sending electricity coursing right through him.

"What do you mean _ what now _?" Seonghwa quirks an eyebrow at him. 

"What does this make us?" Hongjoong questions, pointing between the two of them dumbly. 

"What do you want us to be?" Seonghwa counters, instead of answering his question. He can see in Seonghwa's eyes that he sees what Hongjoong is trying to ask, but that he will make him spell it out just for the sake of seeing him struggle. The bastard.

And so, Hongjoong says fuck it, and goes all out with his feelings. "If I'm being honest, I've been dying to call you my boyfriend ever since like our second lecture together," he confesses, looking down as his cheeks heat up. He hears the sharp breath Seonghwa draws and smiles a bit at how pathetic he must look.

"Hongjoong," Seonghwa says, gently, begging him to look up with his voice. Hongjoong doesn't want to, wants nothing but to go hide under the covers of his bed, but suddenly there's a finger under his chin, softly forcing him to meet Seonghwa's eyes, and Hongjoong's breath is punched out of his lungs again because _ that's _ the smile. "You do realize that we are basically married, right?"

Hongjoong's mouth falls open at that statement, making Seonghwa give him an astonished look, as if he can't believe Hongjoong's awe.

"Oh my God," he breathes, "that's it, I take it back, I'm un-falling in love with you right now."

That manages to snap Hongjoong's mouth shut as he quickly reaches with his hand to cover Seonghwa's mouth. "Ah no, you can't, this is like a cult, once you're in you can't get out," he tells him fervently, yelping when Seonghwa bites his fingers, but keeping his hand there. 

"I was kidding, you idiot," he says from behind Hongjoong's hand. "I'm unfortunately in for the long run."

"Sounds like a you problem," Hongjoong jokes, removing his hand, despite the fact that his heart is cartwheeling inside his chest because this is probably the most romantic thing that's ever happened to him. This is how pathetic his love life is.

"You are the source of most of my problems anyway," Seonghwa says, but the fond smile he's sporting sort of makes him lose all credibility.

"Mhm," Hongjoong hums, trying to convince his cheeks to stop flaming. "And I intend to keep it that way for a long time."

"That's the weirdest way anyone has ever asked me out," Seonghwa tells him, laughter coloring his voice, and Hongjoong smiles cheekily at him. 

Banter. Now, this is comfortable. This is something he can do. "I prefer to call it creative and alternative."

"Well, I'd prefer it if you called me your boyfriend," Seonghwa shoots back, and Hongjoong nearly chokes on air. New house rule: Seonghwa isn't allowed to openly flirt with him for the sake of his own sanity.

"Fine," he croaks out, his face and ears and neck flushing what he's sure is a deep red. It's so hot in the room, Hongjoong is convinced he's the cause of all global warming right now. It doesn't help that Seonghwa is smiling at him like he knows exactly what he's doing to Hongjoong. God, sometimes Hongjoong hates him.

"Can I call you mine, too?" Seonghwa says, smugly, like he didn't just deliver the cheesiest one-liner ever, and Hongjoong wants to punch him in that perfect face of his. He settles for hitting his chest lightly, making him laugh. "I'll take that as a yes."

Hongjoong nods slightly, and for a couple of seconds they just stare at each other, both just letting the reality of what just happened sink in.

"Did you really mean the married thing?" Hongjoong blurts out, because for some reason that's all his brain got stuck on. 

Seonghwa laughs, bringing a hand up and carding it through Hongjoong's hair softly, brushing it back from his eyes, and settling his palm on his cheek. "We've been living together for six years, we run a business together, our friends are basically our children... we have a goddamned _ cat, _for fuck's sake," he enumerates, looking fondly at him.

"We don't _ have _ a cat, we just… happen to be friends with one," Hongjoong retorts. Cat is not _ theirs _, she doesn't live in the apartment and probably has an actual owner.

"That stopped being true the moment she got a name," Seonghwa says, and his eyes are so fond, it's hard for Hongjoong to meet his gaze. God, is it going to be like this all the time? What has he signed up for?

"That was for convenience's sake. And you can hardly call that a name," he keeps pushing, more out of spite than anything else, now.

"Then give her a better one," Seonghwa replies, easily.

Hongjoong feels his cheeks heat up yet again. He averts his eyes as he mutters. "No, I kinda like that one."

That pulls a laugh out of Seonghwa, and Hongjoong shily looks at him again, smiling at how dumb they are.

"You're so cute," Seonghwa says when he's calmed down, his thumb rubbing Hongjoong's cheekbone gently. "Can I kiss you again?"

And it's sweet in a way only Seonghwa manages to be, with how he's staring at Hongjoong with that earnest expression, like Hongjoong is the most beautiful thing he's ever seen and he can't quite believe this is happening. Hongjoong can't help but agree; he's not quite sure he isn't dreaming, either. But if he is dreaming, it's a pretty damn good dream, so he nods, smiling when Seonghwa closes the distance between them, pressing his lips softly against Hongjoong's in that tender way of his that drives Hongjoong crazy.

This time, Hongjoong lets him set the pace, lets him thread his hands on Hongjoong's hair and tilt his head as he softly moves his lips against Hongjoong's. It's gentle in a way Hongjoong's never been kissed, but there's an underlying playfulness to it, and Hongjoong knows Seonghwa is still holding back a bit. Hongjoong is thankful for it, because he's not sure he'd be able to take it if Seonghwa were to kiss him any other way. 

They part, after a while, and Seonghwa rests his forehead against Hongjoong's. Hongjoong keeps his eyes closed, just breathing him in and letting himself come to terms with the fact that he's allowed all of this.

"Are you hungry?" Seonghwa asks a moment later, and Hongjoong can't help but smile, because that's such a Seonghwa thing to ask. He nods, their noses brushing, and there's no words to describe the feeling in his chest. "Do you want to help me make dinner?"

"Are you sure?" Hongjoong isn't the best cook around, to say something nice.

Seonghwa places a kiss on his lips. "You can just sit there and talk to me while I cook," he says softly. 

Hongjoong snorts. "I would have done that anyway."

"Yeah, but I really don't want to get up, so I'm trying to convince myself to do so," Seonghwa explains, thumb stroking Hongjoong's cheek. Hongjoong feels his heart swell at the action.

"Can't help you with that," he smiles, and then yelps when Seonghwa pinches his side. "Ouch! What was that for?!" he demands, pushing Seonghwa away.

"You're a brat," he simply replies.

"And?" 

"Nothing," Seonghwa's smile is a tad too fond for Hongjoong's liking. "Come on, I'll make you pasta.

Hongjoong perks up. "Oh yes, spoil me," he coos. Seonghwa snorts and pulls him to the kitchen.

He sits on the counter as he watches Seonghwa work, laughing when he bumps into his knees because the kitchen is a tight enough fit for them standing. But Seonghwa just rolls his eyes and plants a kiss to his cheek before he goes to retrieve something from the fridge, making Hongjoong's entire face heat up.

"Can you fetch me some oregano from the cabinet behind you?" Seonghwa asks, and Hongjoong happily twists on the counter to open the cabinet.

"I think this is the first time I've been able to reach the top shelf without getting on my tiptoes," he comments, passing the little bottle to Seonghwa, who gives him a pointed look, the corners of his mouth starting to form a grin. "Don't you say a word," Hongjoong threatens, aiming a kick at him but failing.

"I didn't say anything!" Seonghwa laughs.

"No, but you wanted to, I know that look," Hongjoong says, stern, accusing him with his sock-clad foot. Seonghwa wraps his hand around his ankle and gives it a playful tug, making him lose his balance and fall from the counter with a squeal, landing ungracefully on his feet. "You bastard, I'm gonna-" his threat is cut off by Seonghwa's fingers on his chin and Seonghwa's lips on his. It's just a peck, there and then gone, but it's enough to steal the air from Hongjoong's lungs.

"Dinner's ready," Seonghwa says against his lips. Hongjoong suppresses a shiver. "Go wash your hands while I set the table."

"A-aye," Hongjoong stammers through his blush, hurrying to the bathroom and scrubbing his hands in record time.

When he gets back, skidding on the hardwood floor, there's two plates of pasta sitting prettily on the table, beside two glasses of what looks like pink lemonade. Hongjoong stifles a laugh as he goes to sit in front of one of the plates. Seonghwa emerges from the kitchen, drying his hands on a dish towel and smiles warmly at him. 

"Shall we eat?" he asks.

"Please, I'm starving," Hongjoong nearly pleads. Seonghwa nods and sits in front of him, both of them just focusing on the food for a while. It's good, but then again, Seonghwa made it, and everything Seonghwa cooks is good. Hongjoong is so jealous of his cooking skills. Seonghwa loves cooking, though, which means that he never minds cooking for both of them as long as Hongjoong does the dishes afterwards. It's a good system. Hongjoong is starting to see the married thing.

They make easy conversation as they eat, the usual; the newest gossip courtesy of San, complaining about customers, Yeosang's latest quarrel with the geraniums… It's comfortable. Hongjoong doesn't know why, but he'd expected things to be awkward for some reason. They're not. It's their usual dynamics, their familiar back and forth, the comfortable bickering. Except now, Seonghwa's foot taps his under the table, and Seonghwa's stare is the fondest it's ever been, and Hongjoong is floored by how in love he is.

He does the dishes as Seonghwa takes a shower, laughing quietly to himself when he hears the other sing along to inconnex bits of songs. Following their usual routine, he sits on the couch and pops up Netflix, playing idly on his phone until he hears the shower stop and Seonghwa comes out of the bathroom a few minutes later.

"Netflix and chill, then?" he asks, dropping on the couch next to Hongjoong, who nearly chokes on his own spit.

"You can't- holy shit, you can't say things like that!" he screeches. Seonghwa nearly doubles over laughing. 

"You should have seen your face, oh my God," he wheezes. Hongjoong pouts and stabs his fingers to his side, making him squirm away with a squeal.

"You're an asshole," he says, punctuating each word with a jab of his fingers. "I hate you so much."

Seonghwa's hands catch his and he holds them at an arm's length, breathing heavily. "So I've heard," he says, giving Hongjoong a knowing look. Hongjoong glares at him in response, not willing to give him the satisfaction. Then, he's being pulled forward by their joined hands and suddenly Seonghwa's face is much closer than it was a second ago. "Wanna rethink that?" he breathes against Hongjoong's lips. God, he's gonna be the death of him.

"Nope," Hongjoong replies, feeling brave, and this time it's him who closes the distance between them, pulling an appreciative hum from Seonghwa when their lips meet. He doesn't let it linger for too long, keeps it sweet and chaste, pulling away after a moment, his nose scrunching in delight as Seonghwa chases after him with a little whine. "Now stop being an asshole and pick something to watch."

Seonghwa huffs out a breath, but separates himself from Hongjoong and takes the remote from the coffee table. "Fine," he concedes. "God, you're so lucky you're cute."

Hongjoong laughs gleefully, resting his head against his shoulder. "Thanks, I try my best."

"Shut up."

* * *

"Should I go with the blue or the grey one?" Seonghwa asks from in front of the dresser mirror. Then "Hongjoong-ah," when he doesn't get an answer right away.

"Hm?" Hongjoong looks up from his phone where he is sitting on the bed with Cat on his lap. "Both are good."

"You say that every time I ask you to choose," Seonghwa whines, pulling on the lapel of the bright blue blazer he's currently wearing on top of Hongjoong's favorite black turtleneck. 

"Cause everything looks good on you?" Hongjoong replies, as if it's not obvious. "Besides, it's not like any of our friends is gonna care whether your outfit or, God forbid, both our outfits, are coordinated."

"Yeah, but I will," Seonghwa pouts, and Hongjoong resists the urge to coo.

"Okay, then the grey," he decides. He likes the grey blazer, it has a nice little pattern and hugs Seonghwa's shoulders just right. "This way we'll be matching and Yunho will get to make fun of us."

"Matching… wait, what are you wearing?" Seonghwa turns around confusedly and raises an eyebrow at him. "Isn't that shirt mine?"

Hongjoong looks down at the charcoal grey shirt with tiny patterns he's wearing and notices that it is, indeed, Seonghwa's. He looks up again with a grin. "Not anymore, I like it."

Seonghwa rolls his eyes at him. "Brat," he says, but Hongjoong can see the fondness in his stare. He ditches the blue blazer in favor of the grey one and runs a hand through his hair once more, as if making sure it's ruffled enough.

"You know, this is dinner with our friends, not a goddamn audience with the president," Hongjoong tells him, secretly appreciating the tight cut of Seonghwa's jeans. 

"Bold of you to assume I'd wear this to meet the president," Seonghwa meets his eyes in the mirror and laughs when Hongjoong sticks his tongue out at him. "Let's go?"

Hongjoong nods, laying a sleepy Cat on the bed and hopping to the floor, pretending to stretch. "I thought you'd never finish."

"You know, some of us make the effort of looking presentable, instead of throwing on some jeans and shirts _ that aren't ours _ and calling it a day," Seonghwa says, pushing him out the door.

"That's cause you simply can't pull it off. My condolences," Hongjoong deftly dodges Seonghwa's flick to his forehead and happily skips to the front door. "Is it gonna be cold? Should I take a jacket?"

"I'm really tempted to tell you to do whatever you want, but then you'll steal mine, so yes, grab a jacket," Seonghwa says, defeatedly.

"Perfect," Hongjoong picks the jean jacket that he _ finally _ finished reforming a few weeks ago and does a quick twirl. "How do I look?"

"You know you always look cute, stop fishing for compliments," Seonghwa tells him, but Hongjoong doesn't miss the way his eyes not so subtly check him out. He smiles at him when they lock eyes again and Seonghwa looks away quickly. Hongjoong giggles, pushing up to his tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

"It's because you always give the best ones," he says softly before turning to open the door. 

One of the things that Hongjoong likes the most about this apartment block compared to the one they lived in before is the fact that it has an elevator. They no longer have to climb five floors worth of stairs when they're exhausted and their legs are sore from work. Now they just cram inside the elevator and are home before they can even register how tired they are. (Another thing he likes the most is the single bedroom with the big bed, but he'd rather die than admit that).

Hongjoong turns to the mirror as they get inside the elevator, and can't help but notice that their outfits do, in fact, match quite well. "Elevator mirror selfie!" he exclaims suddenly, fishing for his phone in his pocket. Seonghwa gives him a funny look but poses dutifully for all ten of the pics Hongjoong takes. "I'm gonna post this on Instagram," he says as they get out of the building.

"Go ahead," Seonghwa concedes, holding the door open for him.

Hongjoong nods to himself as he quickly uploads his favorite shot to his stories. "Yup, gotta brag about how good we look."

"Oh, absolutely. New York's hottest couple," Seonghwa comments, falling into step with Hongjoong. Hongjoong looks up at him with a triumphant grin only to find him beaming down at him.

"Damn right. Take that, Yunho!" he nearly yells, making some people turn to look at him. Hongjoong doesn't care, he only has eyes for Seonghwa's fond smile. "Stop looking at me like that or we'll be even later than we already are."

"Yeosang will have our heads."

"I'm already shaking," Hongjoong laughs as they go down the stairs to the subway station.

In the end, they are only fifteen minutes late, which doesn't make any difference at all, because no matter how late you are, Mingi will always be later than you. 

They meet at their favorite Korean place, the one near Yeosang, San and Wooyoung's place, that is ugly but serves the best food. They make it a habit to meet for dinner every once in a while, at least once a month, because everyone's crazy schedules make it hard for all eight of them to see the others frequently.

It's chaos, as usual, they keep teasing and jabbing each other, their voices rising as if trying to see who can scream the loudest. At some point, Hongjoong simply sits there with his belly full and his head on Seonghwa's shoulder, watching as Mingi and Wooyoung get in a heated debate about shoelaces, their voices threatening to pierce the eardrums of anyone within hearing range.

"Tired?" Seonghwa whispers, his hand finding Hongjoong's on the table. He laces their fingers together and Hongjoong feels warmth spread through his chest. They're not big on PDA, both of them agree that it's better saved for home, but it's small gestures like these that make Hongjoong's heart fill with so much adoration for Seonghwa it's almost physically painful.

He shakes his head a little. "Not really, just happy."

Seonghwa hums, low and gentle, and runs his thumb through the back of Hongjoong's hand. "I'm glad."

"What about you?" Hongjoong asks, eyes glued to their hands.

"Me too. I'm happy, too" Seonghwa replies softly, and Hongjoong doesn't need to see his face to know he has that fond expression on.

"Good."

* * *

The first weekend of September finds all eight of them sitting in various mismatched chairs on the rooftop of Seonghwa and Hongjoong's building. It's a little cooler than it's been the past couple of weeks, and they decided to hang out here instead of actually going somewhere.

They improvise a picnic, having all brought some kind of food or another, and Yeosang produces a soap bubble wand out of thin air and drives Cat crazy as she tries to catch the little bubbles he keeps blowing.

"Yeosangie, don't terrorize my cat, please," Seonghwa says, but he laughs when Cat lets out a frustrated meow and jumps at a bubble that inevitably bursts against her nose.

"She's having fun!" Yeosang defends himself, blowing yet another batch of bubbles. 

"I think she's five seconds away from clawing your eyes out," Hongjoong tells him with a laugh. He reclines back where he's sitting on the floor and rests his head against Seonghwa's legs. "Don't trust her, she's a little punk."

"She's not!" Yeosang dangles the wand in front of Cat's face, making her follow the movement with her head. Her little tricolor tail twitches in annoyance behind her. Hongjoong has to stifle a laugh as one of Seonghwa's hands comes to absentmindedly comb his hair.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," he just says, ready to watch Yeosang's demise at the paws of their tiny cat. He looks up and catches San sneakily taking pics of the scene while Yeosang has his back turned to him. San notices Hongjoong's eyes on him and raises a finger to his lips in complicity. Hongjoong smiles and copies the gesture, earning himself a satisfied dimpled smile.

They just sit around and exist for a while, updating each other on their lives and retelling old stories, like the time Wooyoung had to give a customer a tattoo with a typo because they insisted it was spelled like that, or the time Hongjoong nearly set Seonghwa's dorm's kitchen on fire trying to cook. At some point, Cat gets tired of Yeosang's antics and goes to curl up in Hongjoong's lap, purring softly as he strokes her little ears.

It's comfortable, the familiarity of it all making Hongjoong's heart grow in his chest. Seonghwa's hand in his hair, Cat's weight on his lap, his boys all gathered around a few bags of chips, these are the things Hongjoong has grown to associate with home. These are the moments when he's at peace with himself and the world around him, the moments he wouldn't change for anything in the world.

He closes his eyes and tilts his head backwards, basking in the warm afternoon sun. He is too busy being happy and he doesn't register Seonghwa moving until he feels the soft brush of his lips against the tip of his nose. He blinks his eyes open in surprise, a question on the tip of his tongue, but Seonghwa beats him to it.

"Sorry," he mutters, and it's weird, seeing him upside down. "You looked too cute."

"It's fine," Hongjoong can't help but smile. Sometimes, Seonghwa is too adorable for his own good. "You just surprised me."

Seonghwa hums, leaning in and pressing another kiss, this time to Hongjoong's lips. It's unsurprisingly ineffective, not only because of the weird angle, but also because Hongjoong can't stop laughing.

Seonghwa pulls away with a huff. "You ruined it."

Hongjoong laughs harder. "I'm sorry, it's just so funny."

"You're so dumb."

"I am," Hongjoong concedes easily. "Too bad you're in this love shit for life, huh?"

That manages to pull a snort out of Seonghwa. "That's one way to put it."

"I'm also extremely romantic, as you know," Hongjoong reaches up to poke Seonghwa's cheek.

"Oh, yes, Shakespeare's got nothing on you," Seonghwa deadpans. Hongjoong laughs delightedly.

"Damn right."

(Later that night, he gets a text from San with several pictures of Seonghwa hunched over looking adoringly down at him. He would laugh if he didn't look equally whipped staring up at Seonghwa. He shoots San a quick thank you text and sets his favorite one as his lock screen before curling up against Seonghwa's side with a contented sigh. Life is good, and he's young and in love in New York City).

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> I hope it wasn't too bad and i could at least entertain you for a while. 
> 
> There's a lot of extra content i didn't know how to fit in the actual story (character bios, extra facts, etc) so if you're interested in that find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/thewintersobber) and ill be more than happy to talk about it!


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